


the way we move

by sciences



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - Film Festivals, Dialogue Heavy, Kid Fic, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:15:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 58,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21535819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciences/pseuds/sciences
Summary: “No offense to these lovely people but er—” Jaemin scratches the corner of his lips with his index finger. A careful, questioning smile surfaces, directed straight at the camera, straight at Jeno. “Jeno only deserves the best.”Jeno smiles because he can’t do anything else, his heart prickling with the impossible infatuation he’s been harboring for quite some time now. He mentally answers Jaemin,Do I Really?Oralternativelyhow manager jeno and actor jaemin dance around each other’s feelings and their own in a year of film festival-hopping on the road to the oscars
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 48
Kudos: 160





	1. what's wrong with manager lee?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jaemjenist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaemjenist/gifts), [main_vocals](https://archiveofourown.org/users/main_vocals/gifts).



> Hi! Apparently, I can’t write anything else outside this. But I heard you must write what you know/love best. So to celebrate over a year of loving jaemjen, here's [the manager jen fic](https://twitter.com/jaemjaemis/status/1164080954618474496) mostly set in present day 2020, with bits and pieces of the past in between, with title pitched by my good friend, J.
> 
> Here's my love letter to love, our passions in life, and cinema. [♫](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7do8DymCxNqWGyr0ihR9jX)

_“I love you as one loves certain obscure things, secretly, between the shadow and the soul.”_

\- Pablo Neruda

_New York City, present day_

“Hi! I’m Jaemin Na and we have a little film coming out called Seoul is Burning.”

Jaemin’s English is perfect, just like how they’ve rehearsed it earlier and the night prior. “This is my manager, Jeno.” The actor’s eyes on him are easy and comforting. The smile on his lips, mischievous but not too obvious.

“And I’m gonna help him find true love by hijacking his Tinder account on his actual phone.”

It’s all a little ridiculous but who’s Jeno to say no? Over a brief phonecall, the _Vanity Fair_ staff casually explained how it will be simple and told Jaemin and Jeno to act as they always do, as talent and manager.

“No offense to these lovely people but er—” Jaemin scratches the corner of his lips with his index finger. A careful, questioning smile surfaces, directed straight at the camera, straight at Jeno. “Jeno only deserves the best.”

Jeno smiles because he can’t do anything else, his heart prickling with the impossible infatuation he’s been harboring for quite some time now. He mentally answers Jaemin, _Do I Really?_

  
  
  
  


[VIDEO: Na Jaemin navigating his manager’s Tinder, 1 small phone-size screen on the left shows how he’s scrolling—swiping left and right according to his own volition and 1 smaller screen on the upper right shows the slightly flushed but still smiling manager of the South Korean actor]

**Seoul is Burning’s Na Jaemin Hijacks His Manager’s Tinder | Vanity Fair**

2k views • 1 day ago

Vanity Fair

2.03M subscribers

Published on January 8, 2020

Description: Na Jaemin takes over his manager’s Tinder account and answers a call from his sister! Catch the South Korean actor on the Sundance premiere of the highly awaited Seoul is Burning from hit filmmaker Johnny Seo.

Comments 80

brilliantjaemin • 1 day ago

I respect Jaemin looking out for him. What a gentleman. 😊

jaeminlattes • 5 hours ago

His manager...is cute 😔 I hope he finds true love!

> jaemjenist • 3 hours ago
> 
> I think he already has 🤔
>
>> najamjams • 3 hours ago
>> 
>> 😳🤯🤡

  
  


_Utah, present day_

The sky is a dove grey as Jeno waits for Minjung to pick up his call.

He’s just excused himself from Jaemin and the rest of the cast and crew, minutes before their Sundance premiere of _Seoul is Burning._ The team has been privileged with a screening at the newly minted Sundance venue, The Ray, a former Sports Authority Store along Park Avenue.

Seo kangdong-nim doesn’t expect a full house, the theater’s capacity being at 500, and he’s only got one other feature film under his belt that foreigners may be familiar with. But everyone’s optimistic anyways, smiling into their respective cups of warm coffee.

Jeno’s fur boots thudded against the asphalt, coinciding with the sound of the dial tone in his ear.

“ _Hello, midget._ ” Minjung’s voice is warm and familiar. Jeno, whose fingers are trembling in the brisk winter air, finds it comforting. _“How’s Utah?”_

“Cold,” Jeno answers simply. “But I bet it’s as cold there as it is here.” He feels the puff of air coming from his lips with every consonant. “Why’d you call, noona?”

 _“Not even an ‘I miss you, noona’,”_ Minjung teases. _“Chaera misses your burnt ramyun.”_

“Then I’ll cook for her, when I get back,” Jeno replies.

 _“They’re both saying they’ll miss you more than they’ll miss me.”_ A pause. _“Have you thought about what I said?”_

Jeno sighs. “Still thinking about it, noona.” He looks at the shopping district from across the street. It’s littered with foreigners. Seoul is so far away, and just the thought of it is enough to make Jeno feel restless. Minjung seems to have caught on and changes the topic.

 _“Mom and Dad are coming over for your birthday. Better clear your schedule.”_ A sound of pans can be heard in the background. _“Or ask a leave from your employer.”_

Jeno stifles a laugh. “You make it sound like Jaemin isn’t good to me.”

 _“Well, maybe that’s the problem,”_ Minjung says. _“He’s too good to you, Jeno._ ” Her tone makes Jeno flinch, tucking his free hand into the pocket of his parka. _“Too good that it makes me question if there really isn’t something going on between—”_

“Noona,” Jeno warns, voice soft. It’s still too early in Seoul for this topic, and a little out of place in Park City, amidst all the chatter of the festival. “I’ll make sure to take a leave. Ask hyung and Chaera and Bongju if they’re okay with Park City keyrings.” Jeno turns his back from the road, eyeing the flock of people entering the glass doors of The Ray. “Take care, noona.”

“ _You’re one to talk_ ,” Minjung mumbles, sighing heavily. “ _Take care of yourself too, little brother_.”

Jeno ends the call and promptly makes his way inside The Ray. He presents his festival pass to the usher who gives him last minute reminders on not allowing filming during the screening proper. Once he steps inside, any remnant of the metallic cold air outside is replaced with the scent of pine tree air-conditioning of the theater. The thrumming excitement of the festival goers and some industry representatives and media partners makes Jeno’s stomach lurch in accord. 

Seo kangdongnim stands at the podium, introducing his film in fancy English, some words unfamiliar to Jeno.

Jeno spots the familiar mop of ash grey on the row of seats near the stage, and the vacant seat next to him. He silently makes his way on the side and is stopped by a hand on his wrist as soon as he settles down on the free seat.

“I was going to be sad if you miss the first minutes of the film,” Jaemin jokes. Jeno knows the pout in the actor’s voice even with his eyes closed. “How’s Minjung noona?” The hand on top of Jeno’s continue to fidget, fingers tapping on Jeno’s skin. “Is everything alright at home?” Jeno nods.

“Not going to bore you any further,” Seo kangdongnim finally says on stage. “There’ll be plenty much time for that later.”

Jeno’s left hand gently covers Jaemin’s tapping fingers. He inches closer to him. “Jaemin-ah.” Nervousness mixed with excitement swim in the actor’s eyes. “It’ll be great. They’ll love you.”

“Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Seoul is Burning.”

The tapping stops. Jaemin smiles.

_#Johlony Assemble! and 14 others liked this_

**Weiying on the world 2 change ✔**

@weiwuxinema

Johnny Seo’s SEOUL IS BURNING has the same basic problem as PARASITE: every single moment of it is just devastatingly wicked — somehow wild & wise / now & forever at the same time — and it all makes the whole world feel more possible & alive and then it’s over & you have to go back to feeding your rabbits as if your life just hasn’t changed. Where do I sign up for #Johlony? 😁 #Sundance2020

7:18 PM • 01/24/2020 Twitter for iPhone

183 Retweets 10.5k Likes

**ley ♡ (.◜◡◝ )** @ley_dh_23 • 1d

Replying to @weiwuxinema

wei wuxian!!! stOP my hype is at an all-time high but i have to wait until christmas to see it 😖

 **sumo** @wangxianmaid • 1d

Replying to @weiwuxinema

Is it the type of film I can watch with my s/o? 😲

> **Weiying on the world 2 change ✔** @weiwuxinema • 1d
> 
> Replying to @wangxianmaid
> 
> Lanzhan enjoyed the film too! 😊
>
>> **I love you 3000 lanterns ✔** @heavensofficialXL • 1d
>> 
>> Replying to @weiwuxinema
>> 
>> See you at Venice! You’re attending, right? Hey @dianxias, I told you it’s going to be as awesome as Parasite! 😇 #AsianCinemaTakeover
>>
>>> **I love you 3000 lanterns more ✔** @dianxias • 1d
>>> 
>>> Replying to @heavensofficialXL
>>> 
>>> I’ll believe it when we see it. For now, #BongHive

  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  


_Seoul, January 2017_

Jeno is twenty-two when he meets Jaemin.

The management looked a bit apprehensive during his interview because Jeno lacked experience for the position. It doesn’t help that Jeno feels slightly overdressed in the suit that Haejin hyung lent him, as he sits on the opposite side of the table, directly across from Kim Heechul, Dreaming Entertainment’s CEO.

Jeno’s more than positive that he’s not getting the job, but he doesn’t have the heart to tell his older cousin Kwangsoo hyung no _._ Jeno always had a little problem in that department.

“I think it’s a great idea for Nana to have a manager around his age. And our Nana’s great with people, even with those he just met. It’s his best trait.” Kim Heechul gives him a simple smile, one free of any judgmental prodding about Jeno’s past and his capability of staying in the industry that had already torn him to pieces. “What do you think, Jeno? Think you could start right away?”

A simple _Yes_ is all it took, and soon enough, Jeno finds himself knocking on the door of a dressing room _._

The door opens to a boy that doesn’t look that much older than he is, with messily-styled honey brown hair and bobby pins clipped on the other side of his head.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” the boy exclaims, reaching out for Jeno’s hand to shake it, and in turn pulling him inside the room. “Saerom better be right about you.”

Before Jeno can comprehend anything, he’s asked to sit down on a nearby couch and the honey brown-haired boy plops down beside him with his old-looking knapsack, and starts taking out notes, with colored flags.

“I’ve written down Nari’s favorite food, things she likes, food she can’t eat, things she can’t stand, her favorite—”

“Excuse me, Na Jaemin-ssi?”

Both Jaemin and Jeno turn towards the direction of the intruder.

“Hello, I’m Shin Yuna,” a girl with long blonde hair says. “Saerom unnie sent me.” The bright grin on her face turns apologetic. “I’m sorry I almost got lost on my way here and in no way will this reflect on how I will be with Nari. I promise this is a one-time thing.”

Jaemin slowly gets up, takes Yuna’s hand to shake it. “Wait, if Saerom sent you then—” Jeno gets up from the couch, introduction already on the tip of his tongue, as Jaemin’s brown eyes dart towards him. “Who are you?”

Jeno slows to a stop as they arrive at Jaemin’s residence, a humble looking two-story house in a quiet neighborhood in the middle of Apgujeong.

His eyes dart to the rearview mirror and finds Jaemin watching him.

“I’m so sorry for earlier, Jeno-ssi,” Jaemin says, inching forward, hand gripping on the passenger seat in front to look at Jeno. “I didn’t get to read the texts from the management earlier. I was only focused on meeting what kind of person Saerom got for Nari.” Jaemin speaks so casually that to an outsider it must look like they’ve known each other for more than a day.

“It’s alright,” Jeno finally says, fingers flying up to play with the tips of his blonde hair. “I should dye this tomorrow, so I can look more professional.”

Jaemin breaks into laughter, a hearty one that dispels any remaining awkwardness from earlier. “Your pick, manager-nim,” Jaemin says, smiling, all his teeth in display. Heechul’s _And our Nana’s great with people, even with those he just met_ echo in Jeno’s mind as he smiles back at the actor. “If you ask me, this is Saerom’s fault.”

It’s a name that has been mentioned more than thrice since earlier, but Jeno’s not too sure if he can ask such questions on his first day. Truthfully speaking, Jeno’s not really too familiar with the actor himself, or actors in general. He mentally notes to review the basic profile he’s been handed earlier during the briefing just to be at least familiarized with bits and pieces regarding Jaemin that may be thrown Jeno’s way as part of his job.

“I texted her, asking what the babysitter’s like, for me to identify them since I can’t meet them today anywhere else,” Jaemin explains, finally moving to get out of the car.

“What did the text say?”

Jaemin smiles at him one last time before stepping out of the car, the moonlight outside bathing the actor’s features in a ridiculous kind of glow. “Check your phone,” Jaemin says before turning around to open the gate to his house.

As Jaemin goes inside, Jeno’s phone lights up to a notification.

It’s a message that makes Jeno smile, cheeks warm, heart skipping.

_Tall, blonde and pretty._

_Berlin, present day_

The halls of the Berlinale Palast are filled with cheers in varying languages as the Berlinale officially comes to a close.

Jeno sees a crowd forming around the seats of the night’s biggest winner, the Golden Bear-winning Chinese director, Fei Wang, and her cast and crew for _Cantabile._ Jeno had seen it when it premiered earlier in the week, halfway into the festival. He had sat next to Jaemin as usual, the two of them whispering in between the poignant scenes of the apparent Berlinale favorite starring two of China’s finest actresses, Lulu Xuan and Zoey Meng. Lulu Xuan’s character is a world-renowned ballerina who flies back home to China for the funeral of the husband of her first love, played by Zoey Meng. They’re quite the star-crossed pair, in Jeno’s opinion.

The film reminds Jeno of the subdued romance films he’s watched with Jaemin. “It’s like a marriage between _In the Mood for Love_ and _Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind_ ,” said Jaemin as the ending credits rolled. Discussions on the film spilled over to dinner, with the rest of _Seoul’s_ cast and their respective managers, over beers and booze in a nondescript pub a block away from the hotel they’re currently staying at.

“I bet it weighs a ton,” Seo kangdongnim speaks from beside him, as people around them continue to approach other people, presumably to fortify networks with moguls in the industry. He briefly sees Jaemin and Kyungsoo mingle with some of the actors sat on the row in front of them.

“I heard it’s real gold, and not the kind of fake gold they give out as an Oscar.” There’s a mocking lilt to the director’s voice. “I wonder if my Mandarin could pass off as decent Mandarin enough for them to let me hold that bear.” There’s mischief in the young director’s eyes. “What do you think? Should I go for it?”

“Be my guest,” Jeno replies with a grin. Seo kangdongnim takes that as a signal to comically straighten up his tie before mumbling a _Wish me luck_ as he strides towards the Golden Bear winners talking with some of Berlinale’s jury members.

Seo kangdongnim’s presence is immediately replaced with an arm looping around Jeno.

“Let’s take a selca for the night, Manager Lee,” Donghyuck says, as they start moving towards the exit of the Berlinale Palast. “And here I thought you’ll be sticking by Jaemin’s side for the rest of the night.” The sun-kissed actor’s grip on his shoulders grow firmer as his other hand holds his phone up. “Say, _Seoul is Burning in Berlin, baby_!”

Jeno laughs instead of following the actor’s instructions. Donghyuck’s friendship had been refreshing, one that had sprung not completely in relation to Jaemin, unlike all other relationships Jeno had formed in more than three years of working with the actor. “Where’s Seungwan noona?”

Donghyuck points to the right with his lips. Jeno sees Seungwan chatting over with Joohyun, Yeri’s manager. He remembers having told that Seungwan and Joohyun attended the same university at some point, prior to working in different entertainment agencies.

“Jeno, my dear, we don’t always have to stick close to our managers, you know.” Donghyuck’s arm is still comfortably resting on his shoulders. It’s a steadying feeling, especially in a sea of people speaking in tongues unfamiliar to Jeno.

“I don’t always stick to _him,_ ” Jeno starts. “We’re just—”

“Closer than the rest of us. I know, I know,” Donghyuck says, rolling his eyes. “It’s just interesting how some of us had been working with our managers longer and yet most still pale in comparison to how you two move around each other. How you two move with each other.”

“Why do I have the feeling you also used this same spiel to Renjun before asking him out for tomorrow?”

“Yah!” Donghyuck’s eyes go wide, hand over his mouth. “Someone might hear!”

“I don’t think old people who can’t speak Korean would actually be interested in your love life, Donghyuck-ssi,” Jeno jokes with a smile.

“Well if you must know, it’s no longer a date,” Donghyuck says, teeth gritting. “Renjun asked if his little gremlin could come.” Jeno laughs at Donghyuck’s nickname for Jisung. ”And then, somehow, Seungwan noona wanted to go too, and asked Joohyun noona to tag along and now suddenly we’ll be a _circus_ going to the zoo tomorrow.”

The Berlin Zoo had been one of the places Yangyang recommended out of the blue over their occasional meet-up over _soju_ and _samgyeopsal_ , when Jeno brought up Berlinale.

 _I remember pulling off my cutest fake-crying faces so that I could get my folks to take me there when I was younger,_ said Yangyang. Jeno had only smiled then, not really that much enthused at the prospect of going by himself, his mind immediately thinking of two other people he’d like to go with, if given the chance.

“Then maybe you should have planned on going to places that only two people could truly enjoy,” Jeno says with pity. “I doubt Jisung would still insist if he knew you wanted to go on a romantic date with his manager. The kid’s actually polite.” Jeno leaves off the bit of the tiny hints of the younger’s almost-puppy like crush on his manager.

“You think so?” Donghyuck’s hold on his arm loosens, eyebrows creasing in thought. “It’s too late now though, since I already bought our tickets and it would be fishy if I suddenly came up with a different itinerary for just Renjun and me.”

“What’s this itinerary between Renjun and you?”

Jeno is surprised as Jaemin pops in, almost out of nowhere, hand gently resting on his back. The gesture doesn’t go unnoticed by Donghyuck, who swiftly takes off his arm from Jeno’s shoulder, briefly smirking at Jeno as he does so.

“What’s it to you, superstar?” The playful bite in Donghyuck’s voice is apparent.

“Well, if Jeno is going too, then I don’t see any reason for me not to tag along.”

The smile in Donghyuck turns mischievous. Jeno feels small in between the two actors.

“Don’t worry,” Donghyuck says, almost coos. “Jeno’s not going. He’s an old soul who just wants to lounge inside the hotel until we fly back.”

“Then maybe we can lounge together,” Jaemin says, “I’ve read on Germany’s third-wave coffee. I’d like to try them out.” He’s leaning closer to Jeno as he asks, “Would you like to try them out with me?”

Donghyuck makes a gagging sound in the background but all Jeno can focus on is Jaemin’s sweet smile as Jeno smiles back and says, “Sure, I’d like that.”

**official_sun ✔**

[MULTIPLE PHOTO POST: 7 photos of Donghyuck posing with director Johnny Seo, and the cast members of Seoul is Burning. Last three posts are video clips of Donghyuck asking non-celebrities to scream Seoul is Burning in Berlin, baby with him, one of which with his manager and Jisung’s manager, and the last one with someone that looks like Jaemin’s manager]

••••

Liked by **official_moon** and **7,147,600 others**

 **official_sun** Seoul is Burning in Berlin, baby! 😎🔥

View all 1,270 comments

6h ago

**Comments**

**lunariser** Berlin’s finally been blessed by The Sun. Thank you for your service.

5h

 **jaemdongist** A pic with Jaem’s manager but none with him!!! I’m dying!! #jaemdong is literally the epitome of strangers to workers!!! We going ✈️ #dongjen???

4h

> **nominfinity** @jaemdongist take your fanfiction away from ig tyvm 😷
> 
> 4h

  
  
  
  
  
  


“If I’d known you’ve brought work with you, then I should have raided your backpack earlier and made sure you left them at the hotel.”

Frustration mars Jaemin’s features as he takes a sip of his cup of his Ethiopia Nano Challa, a popular choice for tourists according to one of the café’s staff. Customers only trickled in slowly an hour after opening at The Barn, allowing Jaemin to casually converse with the staff in his confident English. They managed to get a table outside of the café by the terrace, overlooking the hustle and bustle of the shopping district of Kurfürstendamm.

The view from anywhere at the terrace is beautiful, a complete panoramic view of the streets below. Jeno mentally notes to take a few pictures and send it to Minjung and the twins and maybe send one to Nari, too.

“Well, I would have made sure I brought them with me,” Jeno says. “Who can say no to being productive in this fancy Berlin air?”

“When I said lounge, I meant _really_ lounge and not—“ Jaemin gestures with his hands, pointing to the pile of scripts Jeno’s starting to lay out on their table. “Work while lounging.”

“Lounge is such a fancy word."

“Stop it, you.

Jeno grins at the actor, as he sips on his own cup of hot chocolate. Jaemin chastised him for it earlier, for not ordering coffee on a place that’s known for it in the whole of Berlin. “At least you’ll be relaxed while deciding on your next project, Nana.”

“Well,” Jaemin starts, smiles at him in surrender, before taking in a small fraction of the Belgian waffle they ordered. “You know I can never argue with you.”

It wasn’t much of a discussion when Jaemin suggested they forego their hotel’s luxury breakfast buffet for brunch at The Barn, particularly their branch at West Berlin, which Jaemin praised to be one of the flagship third wave coffee places in the city. Jeno had idly messaged Yangyang about it as he was preparing for bed and asked about the fastest route to get there from their hotel. The younger had been too thrilled about Jeno’s inquiry and shared other places they can visit, including the _Ritter_ , a chocolate shop that allows clients to customize their own chocolate.

“Wow, this one’s a dark comedy,” Jaemin pipes, already skimming one of the scripts labelled with _The Seventh Sense_ in a bold serif font, turning it page by page. “Ï’m to play a timid police officer who can talk to the souls of people who just recently died. My character will have to toughen it up as my trusted senior gets blamed for a crime that he clearly didn’t commit.” The actor clicks his tongue as he arrives at the last page. “The ending looks great. I saw some interesting sequences too and promising dialogues.” The morning Berlin sunlight hits the actor’s ash grey hair just right, as well as his side profile, bathing it in a kind of glow that really only makes it more difficult to look at the actor. “Should we go with this?”

Jeno briefly notes if they should re-dye Jaemin’s hair, whose dark roots have already started to grow back.

“Jeno?”

Jeno shifts in his seat, a lightwood stool, which very much fits the entire Scandinavian-style that the shop is going for. “Place them on a separate pile,” Jeno says, tacking the upper left page of said script with a colored flag. “We’ll decide among those you’ve shortlisted later.”

“You mean we’re still working tonight?”

Jeno nods as he breaks into easy laughter, taking in how ridiculously good-looking Jaemin is in his soft beige sweater, against the backdrop of the café’s terrace. He idly takes the actor’s phone and gesturing for him to open it.

The other complies, pout still imminent on his lips.

“Smile, Jaemin-ah.” He snaps a photo of the actor, looking down at the busy street of Kurfürstendamm. He reminds himself to tell Jaemin to post one later, for each of his social media accounts. When the actor’s head whips towards him, Jeno snaps another photo. He captures the exact moment of Jaemin in mid-motion, some of his hair getting swept by the wind like a curtain.

He’s about to snap another, changing the orientation of the shot from landscape to portrait when Jaemin eyes him gently, gaze too intent almost turning his knees into jelly, as he asks, “Can we please at least take one together?”

“For Nari?” Jeno asks almost on autopilot, the way his mind and mouth always do each time things head into a territory Jeno doesn’t want to cross.

The actor’s forehead creases for a second before he breaks into his usual easygoing smile, the kind that doesn’t reach his eyes. Jeno sets the observation aside and focuses on positioning the phone, finger pressing on reverse mode, fitting them both in the frame.

“Okay,” Jaemin starts, already posing for their photo together, unaware of the feeling that is slowly seeping through Jeno’s skin. “For Nari.”

  
  


The trip to the Ritter had been quiet, the selection of ingredients for the chocolate even moreso.

Jeno decides to break the silence as they pay for their chocolates, asking Jaemin if he wants to go somewhere else while waiting for their chocolates to be finished. He follows the direction on his phone and they soon arrive at their destination, the huge bold letters of Markthalle Neun hanging by the entrance of the market hall.

Markthalle Neun holds one of the biggest street food events in Berlin. They find themselves in the market hall, thrumming with so much life and culture: the various smells of different dishes, craft beers and cocktails from all over the world pervade the air. Yangyang had bragged about this particularly, insisting for Jeno to visit it.

After a few minutes of going through some of the stalls, Jeno orders for himself a pastrami sandwich while Jaemin gets himself a bratwurst sandwich drizzled with mustard and ketchup. They settle down on one of the few vacant seats and eat in silence. Jeno occasionally looks at Jaemin to check on him— _He’s just being a good manager,_ he explained to Renjun once, to which Renjun just scoffed saying something about Jaemin being a grown adult who doesn’t need to be babied. 

It starts with sneaking a glance once, and another, and another, until Jaemin catches him staring.

“Yah, is there something—“ Jaemin doesn’t finish his own statement, as he inches forward and wipes off the corner of Jeno’s lips with his thumb, Jeno freezing completely as he does so. “Looks like you’re the one that needs to be taken care of, manager-nim,” Jaemin says, carelessly licking his thumb clean of the sauce from Jeno’s lips.

“I’m sorry,” Jeno blurts out, unsure if he wants Jaemin to hear him or not amidst the commotion in the market hall. But the actor looks up, mid-chew of his sandwich, contemplating.

“For what?” Jaemin asks.

“For not being as fun as the other managers,” Jeno says. “For being the most boring company in an exciting city like Berlin.”

Jaemin looks like he’s frustrated, before he switches to one of his softer smiles. It's one of Jeno’s favorites, all because he knows this is one of Jaemin’s genuine smiles, and not the one he normally has on in front of the cameras. “Of all the things you apologize for and you apologize for that.” Jaemin’s smile is blinding.

And Jeno is weak.

“You’re truly one of a kind, Lee Jeno.”

  
  


Jeno receives a message from Donghyuck as they climb the stairs of the Reichstag. It’s a message completely written in English that says _You only Berlin once. How about a drink??? Or Five???_

It’s roughly fifteen minutes before sunset with Jaemin walking in front of him, clearly mesmerized by the view outside. Jeno types a _Sure, we’ll be there,_ choosing to ignore how Donghyuck’s message hits him a little bit differently. He quickly receives one more message from Donghyuck with the address of a beer pub, which happens to be just a few blocks from their hotel.

Jeno catches up to Jaemin, showing him the address

Jaemin just nods at this before stopping to give his phone to Jeno. “I’m going to show this off to Nari,” he says, posing with his arms opened wide, eyes closed, smiling so brightly. The fading sunset from behind make the actor look other-wordly.

Jeno smiles as he snaps a photo. And another, and another. He snaps one once more before he swiftly places himself next to Jaemin to take a photo of them together. Jeno ignores the burning stare of Jaemin from beside him and snaps a photo of them together. 

“Is that one for Nari, too?” Jaemin says. Jeno hears a hint of sadness in the voice of the other but he quickly dismisses it to just be exhaustion.

“Nari would be happy seeing his favorite people enjoying themselves,” Jeno says, almost in resolve.

Jaemin scoffs. “You really think too highly of yourself now, manager-nim.” His voice is teasing with all of the harmlessness between old friends. “But you know what,” Jaemin starts, already watching the sky from outside completely embrace the blues. “Nari would really love it here.”

Jeno mirrors the other, admiring the beginnings of the vast night sky as he mouths, “I think so too.”

**najaemofficial ✔**

[MULTIPLE PHOTO POST: Photos of Jaemin in Berlinale Palast before and after Berlinale, photos of Kurfürstendamm and other places in Berlin, other photos are slightly blurry photos of the actor’s manager that looks like they’re taken mid-motion, and one simple photo of the evening sky which looks like a view from the Reischtag]

••••

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 **najaemofficial** Burning in Berlin, baby! 🤩🔥

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4h ago

**Comments**

**official_sun** That last pic of the night sky doesn’t fit your caption, Na.

23m

> **official_sun** The candid shots are not that bad tho ig… Kudos! 😏
> 
> 13m
> 
> **yyangliu** @official_sun I agree! 🤗
> 
> 8m

  
  
  
  
  


_Seoul, February 2017_

Jeno finally meets Nari for the first time a few weeks into being Jaemin’s manager.

Jaemin’s phone had been incessantly ringing that Jeno had to step out of the set to answer it. Jaemin had been firm about only answering calls for him when they’re either from Saerom or from Nari’s preschool teacher, Kim songsaengnim. Jeno braces himself as he sees it’s the latter.

Apparently, Nari had gotten into a small fight with her classmates. Saerom, Nari’s mother, according to Kim songsaengnim, cannot make it, as well as Yuna, the newly hired babysitter. Jeno looks through the buildings’ windows and sees the commotion in dressing up Minjoo, Jaemin’s partner for this endorsement. The fried chicken brand wanted Jaemin and Minjoo to be dressed up as literal chickens. It’s all absurd, really, but Jaemin had smiled through the director’s instructions and assured everyone that the filming will go well.

Jeno gets the keys from his back pocket and decides to pick Nari up in Jaemin’s behalf.

It takes a little over twenty minutes to arrive at Nari’s preschool. Once he arrives at Nari’s classroom, he spots a little girl sitting by herself, hugging a Ryan backpack to her chest.

A young man who doesn’t look older than thirty, steps out of the room, eyes lighting up in recognition. “Mr. Lee?”

Jeno blanks for a moment before taking a bow. “Just call me Jeno, please. I’m Nari’s father’s manager.”

Kim seonsaengnim smiles at him, calling the attention of the little girl who’s now looking up at Jeno, studying him. The little girl looks like a miniature Jaemin. She remains quiet as she goes inside the classroom and sits down in front of Kim seonsaengnim. Jeno follows suit and sits himself on the seat next to her.

“Is Nari in trouble?” Jeno asks right away, trying to sound familiar with Nari’s name.

“It’s nothing big, Jeno-ssi.” Kim seonsaengnim drags his chair towards them and takes a seat. “But it’s been happening a lot lately and I know Mr. Na is quite busy but I wish he can come to me next time about this.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Nari finally says. “I never start anything, ssaem. It’s always them.”

Jeno sees the fight in Nari, wonders if she gets this from her father.

“I know, Nari-yah,” Kim seonsaengnim replies. His gaze is soft before turning to Jeno. “I think it’s time your father knows, too.”

The ride back to the CF location is quiet. Jeno only breaks it once he’s parked at a nearby convenience store.

“Where do you want me to drop you?”

Nari peers up from her bangs from where she’s sitting at the backseat and grins, “Can I sleep over at appa’s tonight?” She pouts. “I miss my room in his house.”

“Okay, then.” Jeno shoots him the warmest smile he can manage before taking the key from the ignition. “Do you want some ice cream while waiting for your dad to finish his shoot?”

Nari nods, mouths a small _Thank you manager-nim,_ grinning.

Jeno grins back.

“It was a mutual decision to not go through with the marriage,” Jaemin starts, after already tucking Nari to bed in her room. “We actually tried to make it work but—” Jaemin sighs into possibly his fourth glass of soju for the night, “—Saerom and I were simply two different people who would have eventually lost touch if not for Nari.”

“Nari seems wonderful,” Jeno says honestly, thinking of when Minjung bore the twins and how Jeno’s always been happy to have been part of their lives growing up. “She seems strong for her age.” Jeno thinks the better word is stubborn, but he’s not sure if he’s in the right place to imply anything.

“I think he gets that from both Saerom and me,” Jaemin says, grinning. “Saerom’s even firmer than I am so maybe Nari gets it all from her.”

Jeno hasn’t known the actor for long and he’s unsure for how long he’ll be around him. He chooses to hum through Jaemin’s honesty, thankful that at least it’s him who’s Jaemin spilling himself to. If there’s one thing Jeno learned from his past life, it’s that you should only be honest to people who won’t use your honesty against you. Jeno likes to think he’s a person Jaemin can trust.

“I don’t regret the decisions I’ve made, Jeno-ssi. Acting pays the bills. Acting is all I’ve ever known. Acting is my life. It’s just that sometimes—“ the actor’s eyes look glassy under the light of Jaemin’s kitchen as he pours more soju to his and Jeno’s empty glasses. “I think Nari deserves better.” Jaemin drinks his full glass in one go before he mouths, “She deserves a better father. Don’t you think so?”

There’s a lump in Jeno’s throat, a cavity in his heart that aches beneath all the bandages he’s meticulously plastered. _You deserve a better son._

Suddenly, the shame and guilt that Jeno has masterfully, carefully tucked away spring back from the recesses of yesteryear. He still doesn’t have an answer for himself even five years later since he's closed that particular chapter in his life—he has nothing helpful to say to the stranger he’s barely known for a couple of weeks. Strangely, that fact makes Jeno even sadder.

So Jeno chooses to do what he does best: “Hey,” he deflects. “I think we should stop drinking.” He drags Jaemin’s glass away from him.

The other’s hand stops him. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m not Nari,” Jeno tries. Jaemin’s grip on his hand then softens. “It’s unfair to assume what she thinks about you.”

The grip on his hand loosens completely. Jeno makes a move to get up and bring their glasses to the sink to wash it when Jaemin coughs before saying, “Are you saying I could ask her directly?”

“Not now, perhaps,” Jeno replies, already getting up with their glasses as he walks towards the sink. His hand hovering on the faucet stops, his back to Jaemin. “But someday, definitely.”

Jaemin doesn’t say anything else after that. Jeno hears footsteps leaving the kitchen and then it’s quiet again with only the sound of the water from the faucet as his company.

Minutes later, as he puts his shoes on as he leaves for the night, Jaemin calls his name.

“If you have any stories you’d like to share, please feel free to do so, Jeno-ssi.” The look Jaemin gives him is careful and bashful, like he’s afraid he’s shared too much. “I think it’s best to build our working relationship by filling in these gaps.”

It takes a few seconds for Jeno to answer, his mind suddenly flashing episodes of his eighteen-year-old self who came close to reaching the stars but had to leave it all behind in an instant. He chews on his bottom lip, thinking there’s been enough honesty for the night. “Maybe not tonight.”

“But someday, definitely, yes?” Jaemin’s eyes have turned hopeful. Jeno’s not sure what he feels about it but settles for a nod anyway.

“Thank you for today, manager-nim,” Jaemin says, weak smile on his lips. It’s not one of the actor’s usual bright smiles but it’s true. For tonight, that’s enough.

_Seoul, present day_

The smell of _haemultang_ fills the kitchen of the Jung household on one of the first evenings of spring.

“New addition to the collection, oppa?”

Jeno grins at Chaera and hums an affirmative as he sticks the Berlin Palace magnet to the refrigerator, next to the Utah seagull magnet he’s bought home weeks prior. He steps back and marvels at the rest of magnets attached. Some of them are from the twins’ field trips, some from Haejin’s business trips, a couple from Minjung’s own work trips and a few from Jeno’s own travels.

“Your father will be late, he got held up at work,” Minjung says, setting down her phone on the counter. “How about we eat first?”

They all take it as a cue to sit down on their respective seats around the dining table, leaving one chair empty for Haejin.

“Jeno.” Minjung hands him a plate of steamed rice as she looks at him knowingly. “Have you looked through the job postings I’ve sent you?”

“I haven’t,” Jeno honestly replies as he fills a quarter of his plate with rice. He finds no point in lying to his older sister, who probably knows him better than anyone else. “I just haven’t found the time to.”

“Your schedule’s so hectic, hyung,” Bongju comments, taking apart the abalones in his plate. He puts some of it on Chaera’s plate. “At this rate, you might miss the Christmas showcase again this year.”

 _Ah_ . Jeno stills, mid-chew of Minjung’s _gochupjang_. “I guess so, yes.”

There’s always a bittersweet feeling every time Jeno thinks of Incheon Dance Company’s Christmas Showcase. Ever since he joined the group and dancing his heart out on his free weekends, Jeno’s never had the chance to join the event. He’d only taught other junior members and helped them come up with their concepts and polish them. Come around the end of the year, as the showcase approaches, Jaemin’s schedule always gets filled to the brim, and in turn, so does Jeno’s.

“Maybe you could ask a leave from Jaemin oppa,” Chaera pipes, picking the abalones on her plate with her chopsticks. “I’m sure he’d let you if you ask him.”

“There’s—“

“No need for that,” Minjung finishes for him, sipping from her bowl of _haemultang._ “This year is a long one. Jeno’s got plenty of time to think things through.” She levels Jeno with her gaze. “Don’t you, Jeno?”

Before he could nod, he feels the phone in his pocket vibrate. He ignores his sister exasperated sighs when he takes out his phone. It’s a message from Jaemin that reads _Are we going over the contract for Laneige tonight? :)_

“I’ve got to go,” Jeno says, pocketing his phone before taking a few more sips of his _haemultang._ He’s not able to finish any of the shellfish but he’s sure they’re nothing but delicious, just as delicious as the shellfish that their mom and dad never fails to send them every few months. “I forgot we have something to settle. I’m sorry.”

The apology is directed to Minjung, who once again looks at him knowingly. Jeno’s eyes linger on her for only a second before looking away as he leaves.

He skims the LINE messages he’s left unread as he walks over to the car. The early spring breeze begins to blanket his skin with a comfortable kind of warmth. It helps ease the growing feeling of anxiety in the pit of his stomach, the unspoken deadline that Minjung has been faithfully bringing up ever since New Year’s.

Jeno loves his sister, and understands every bit of concern she has on him. But sometimes, even her love can be a little too much.

As he opens the door to the car, his fingers stop on one recent message, from Ryujin, one of his his juniors at Incheon Dance Company. It says _We miss you here, oppa. Will we be seeing you tomorrow?_

The excitement that fills his chest is instantaneous as he replies with a short _Yes. See you tomorrow. ^^_

_Seoul, December 2016_

Incheon Dance Company comes into Jeno’s life in the form of a yellow flyer.

He finds a couple of it left on the tables of the café Minjung manages, a one-story café almost hidden between two larger restaurants in a strip of restaurants outlined by trees near Jayu Park.

It has always been Minjung’s dream to set up her own café, and even if co-managing a Banana Tree franchise isn’t exactly a fulfillment of it, it’s still a step closer. Minjung has always been the determined one between the two of them. Jeno envies that from her.

“Christmas showcase?” Jeno raises the flyer to Minjung, who’s busily typing away on her laptop behind the register. “Didn’t know there’s something like this here.”

Minjung raises an eyebrow. “You never go out, Jeno, that’s why.” She fixes the red-rimmed glasses she’s wearing before going back to typing. “Maybe it’s about time you experience new things again.”

He looks at the flyer one last time and pockets it thinking maybe _it is_.

Jeno breathes in puffs of cold air as he makes his way inside the performance hall.

There’s a group performing on stage, dancing to a remix of a hip-hop track that Jeno sometimes hear playing on the shops across Myeongdong. He settles on a vacant seat on one of the rows at the back of the hall. His heart skips with each turn and spin—clearly classically rooted but somehow perfectly fits the hip-hop remix to a T.

It’s almost nostalgic, being surrounded with excitement—albeit a different one from the one he’s used to—the kind from the other side of it all. Jeno’s not too confident he can name the exact steps the performers used but he’s pretty sure he’ll be on the nose if he tries to follow their moves, beat per beat. It’s one of the traits that the dance instructors at SM Entertainment had always praised about him. _You pick up things quickly. It’s a useful skill in the long run._

It turns out _his run_ wasn’t pretty long. As the group on stage takes their bow, Jeno wishes it had been longer.

One of the lead dancers with deep brown hair from the hip-hop performance steps forward during the curtain call. “Incheon Dance Academy is accepting new dancers again,” the brunette says. “You don’t need to have danced professionally prior to joining. There are sign-up sheets outside. Fill them out and take them with you when you audition.” The dancer smiles, the lights of the hall illuminating his golden skin, a perfect contrast to the white ensemble he’s wearing. “Take your dance with you, too, of course.”

Jeno takes his leave as the hall becomes a confettied jungle.

By the entrance, there’s a table with ushers wearing a shirt with the logo of Incheon Dance Company. He doesn’t know what comes over him as he walks towards them and quietly takes a sign-up sheet for himself.

_“Maybe it’s about time you experience new things again.”_

Minjung’s words don’t leave him for the rest of the ride home. But Jeno knows that this isn’t new. It’s an old love of Jeno’s, one of two.

It’s the one that Jeno knows he misses the most, the one he feels that’s worth a second try.

Nervousness settles at the pit of his stomach as Jeno dances the steps they’ve been taught earlier.

It turns out that Incheon Dance Company is all about exploring contemporary dance—a marriage of classical and modern techniques in dancing. The seniors have demonstrated a simple routine, a taste of what they’ll be learning if they do get accepted. They range from basic to intermediate, some of which he’s already danced with, the sky-painted walls of SM Entertainment as both his audience and confidante.

He misses a beat or two towards the end but manages to make a perfect turn before landing on his feet, neatly ending his short performance.

“Seems like you got the basics down,” the brunette from the showcase says, whose name Jeno learns is Jongin. He’s the captain. “Your form’s a little rigid though, as if you’re only relearning how to dance again.” Jeno gulps nervously but keeps his eye contact with the elder, reminded of how he’s really not done any serious dancing since his first two years into his Business Economics degree, right before he realized that he has to walk away from dancing to focus on his classes. Right before he realized that he only joined his university’s dance club to hold onto the last fragment of a dream that had slipped through his fingers.

“But I can see you’re a hard worker,” Jongin adds. “And that’s the most important thing for us here.”

Jeno preens at the praise but reminds himself this whole thing works differently, works differently from the monthly evaluations and cutthroat learning sessions for a trainee who will do anything for the validation of some of the industry’s best.

“We’d love to have you, Lee Jeno-ssi,” Jongin finally says, warm smile on his lips. “Welcome to the team.”

The rest of the senior members give their critiques, and although some went a little too technical, Jeno takes them all in stride. The heavy pressure on his chest eases, and his excitement bubbles at the prospect of dancing again, of being himself again, the version of himself that he’s happiest with.

As they shake his hand and give him one-armed hugs, Jeno thrums with the feeling that he’d made the right decision. Some things are worth going back to.

_Seoul, present day_

The first half of their new routine ends in a _chasse_.

“Five-minute water break, folks,” Jongin announces with a grin. “Just have to make a quick call. Be back in a bit!”

Jeno finds himself exhaling as he sits on the floor. It’s his first time back in the studio after a couple of weeks of hectic weekends of simultaneous _Seoul is Burning_ promotions and other meetings with brands and casting directors that required Jeno’s utmost attention.

“Chung-Ang Spring Recital in May,” Ryujin says as she shows her the poster of said recital on her phone. Her newly dyed pink hair bounces as she plops down next to him. “I can get us free tickets, oppa. All you have to do is to say, ‘Yes’.”

Jeno squints his eyes on the date of the recital on the poster. “May 6th?”

“Yes. My friend Chaeryeong tells me there might be visiting troupes performing too. And some bands as well? Oh, and there will be food booths and game booths and so much more. It’ll be so much fun,” Ryujin replies in one breath, hand still waving her phone to Jeno’s face. Jeno finds it cute. Jeno has always found Ryujin endearing, like she’s the younger sister Jeno never had. That’s why it’s also a little hard when Jeno knows he’s about to let her down. Like now, for example.

“I can’t. I’ll be in France then.” Jeno mentally goes over Jaemin’s schedule, which he skimmed before sleeping last night. “Seoul is Burning is premiering in Cannes.”

“No fair,” Ryujin says with a pout. “When does Jaemin oppa _not_ come first?” Her smile melts into a frown, shoulders slumping.

“Ya, of course he does,” Jeno blurts, bumping his shoulder against hers. “I work for him after all.”

Ryujin makes a face, already at the verge of another complaint when Jongin comes back, looking enthusiastic as ever.

“Listen, kids.” He claps his hands thrice to call their attention. Jeno’s not sure why the elder delights in calling them that way. Jongin’s not that much older than they are, having turned thirty earlier this year. “We’ve been asked to choreograph for another idol group, a much more popular one this time around.”

Choreographing for idols isn’t new, but so far they’ve only worked with rookies or debut groups from small companies that probably couldn’t afford the pricier choreographers.

“Neo Culture,” Jongin announces with a pop. Jeno’s hand stills on his water bottle. “For those of you who don’t know them, they’re under SM Entertainment and comprises of fellas not very far from your age.”

Jeno knows this, of course. Jeno _knows them_ , of course.

“It’s not due until the second quarter but once they send their sample—“ Jongin points to Jeno in particular. The sweat on Jeno’s forehead trickles in slow motion. “I want you to choreograph with me, Jeno.”

There’s zealous clapping and a pat on his back from Ryujin. It’s not the first time Jeno helped in any of their choreographies, but it’s the first one where Jongin asked him in front of everyone.

The clapping dies down and Jongin signals for the rest of their session to resume. Jeno drinks from his water bottle one more time. He thinks of Mark, Yangyang, Dejun, and the idol-Jeno-shaped hole that he’s carefully covered at age nineteen.

_Seoul, February 2017_

Jeno’s intently reviewing the basic ballet steps Jongin has generously demonstrated in video form when their van arrives at an all too familiar campus.

He wonders about the chances of being caught but shakes it off. They’re teaching middle schoolers anyways.

“Remember to be nice to the children,” Jongin reminds them, looking at them through the rearview mirror. “There’s a chance one of them might dance for a living someday so we better not get in the way of that.”

It’s one of those rare day-offs when Jaemin is away with his mother on a long weekend trip to Busan. Jeno then asked Jongin if he could drop by the dance studio but was then immediately welcomed with an excited _It’s about time you experience this for yourself, then, Lee._

Jeno, along with other volunteers, mostly new recruits like himself, steps out of the van. One of them, a girl with brown hair tied in a ponytail, comes up to Jeno, smiling. “So, you’re the infamous Don Jeno who only comes to the studio on weekends!”

Before Jeno could question the nickname, the girl stretches out her hand for him to shake. “Shin Ryujin, it’s very nice to finally meet you, Jeno oppa.”

Jeno is overwhelmed but manages a grin as he shakes her hand. “Lee Jeno. Likewise.”

Surprisingly, Ryujin only stuck to him during the start of the activity.

It’s an alternative classroom learning experience for some of the middle schoolers that’s hosted by Incheon Dance Studio every quarter. They get contacted by schools all over Seoul to conduct a two-hour crash course on dances. Jeno’s not sure how much the entire event costs, but he’s since learned that Jongin has always encouraged upholding the principle of dancing for dancing’s sake to staggering lengths. 

As always, Jongin leads the session while they all scatter throughout the crowd to aid the students in mimicking the simple ballet steps that Jongin is demonstrating in front. Much like how Jongin is at the studio, he doesn’t settle with only leading in front and is very hands-on in helping students who find it difficult to follow the steps.

“Relax and exhale so you can float through your turn,” Jongin instructs, watching the students try and execute pirouettes on their own.

Jeno does his best to assist a group of students at the far back who are more than eager to get their pirouettes right.

“It’s okay to not get it right on your first few tries,” Jongin announces. Jeno hears a smile from his voice even if he’s not looking at the elder. He’s helping some of the students free their head and relax their upper body. “The point is to try and try again until you get it right.”

“Pssssssssssst.”

At first, Jeno thinks he must have only imagined it, but then he hears it again: louder and clearer this time. And specific.

“Manager-nim!”

Jeno almost guffaws when he turns to his right and sees Nari smiling at him from where she’s hiding at the gymnasium door before scuttling off to god knows where. He excuses himself from the students, making his way out of the gymnasium to try and see where Nari went.

“Raaaaaaa!”

Nari jumps from behind the concrete posts, her hands mimicking what seems to be claws, doing her best to scare Jeno. Jeno grins as he crouches down to her level. “What are you supposed to be?” he says warmly.

“The monster from appa’s favorite movie!”

Jeno laughs, fixing the mess in her hair that is clearly from running from Jeno earlier. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class right now, Nari-yah?”

She inches forward, makes a _ssh-_ ing sound, raising her index finger to her lips. “I excused myself to go to the toilet.”

“This doesn’t look like the restroom,” Jeno says in a whisper, imitating Nari.

“Appa said the restroom could be anywhere we want it to be.” The look of determination in her eyes resembles that of Jaemin’s.

That doesn’t really make any sense, Jeno thinks, though he settles for a nod, not wanting to get in the way of the silly virtues Jaemin has fervently shared with Nari.

Nari’s eyes wander around. “Is appa here too?”

Jeno shakes his head in reply. “Your Yuna unnie is picking up you later, right?”

Nari nods, already having forgotten her question. Her eyes brighten up like she’s having a lightbulb moment. “Then you’re really just here with those dancing people?”

“You could say so, yes.”

“No way!” she exclaims, drawing out the last syllable, inching closer and closer. Jeno’s never really seen Nari this excited. “Does this mean what I think it means?”

Jeno raises his eyebrow in question.

“Do you dance too, manager-nim?”

Jeno falls backwards. It doesn’t really hurt but Nari looks apologetic. He assures her he’s fine, slowly getting up. “If I tell you I do dance, would you get back to class now?”

Nari squints her eyes, pondering about it. It’s funny how her little mannerisms are clearly from Jaemin. Jeno wonders if she also gets it from her mom, if Saerom is as interesting as Jaemin is.

“Deal,” Nari says, extending her hand for a handshake. Jeno crouches just enough to shake it as he says “Yes. I do dance too. But only on my free weekends.”

There’s a twinkle in the girl’s eyes, as if she’s unearthed a treasure she can call her own when she asks him, “Can you teach me, too? I want to spin beautifully like everyone in the gym earlier.”

“Sure. I’ll teach you,” Jeno replies easily. “But please don’t tell anyone about this.”

“Promise,” Nari swears, holding out her pinky. “Wait.” She frowns. “Not even appa?”

Jeno doesn’t know what comes over him when he locks his pinky with hers and says, “Not even appa.”

_Seoul, present day_

“Did you ever tell them—” Jaemin pauses to chew on his kimbap. He rips open the lid of his instant ramyun. “—about your beef with Neo Culture?”

Jeno shakes his head. “I don’t see the need.”

Spring has completely sprung along Han River by the end of March. The evening spring air tickles Jeno’s skin, topped off by the scent of the instant ramyun he and Jaemin always feast on in Gwangnaru park. It’s part of their biking tradition that sprung from the simple need to destress. It was originally Jaemin’s own thing, but since Jeno is responsible for the actor’s safety—especially considering the rise of Jaemin’s popularity, Jeno’s just embraced it as a part of their working relationship. He wonders what prompted this from Jaemin’s end for tonight.

“But isn’t this some sort of conflict of interest?” Jaemin asks, gesturing with his chopsticks for Jeno to open his own cup. 

The smell of the ramyun reaches Jeno’s nostrils, relaxing him. “It’s not with them, Jaemin. If anything, it’s with—” He scoops some of the warm broth into his spoon. “With the company,” he finishes. “We talked about this.” They did. They’ve talked about everything and nothing that Jeno’s sure it’s Jaemin who knows him best at this point, knows him better than Minjung by a slight margin. Although he’d never tell her that. He’d also never tell him about how Nari’s almost always one step ahead of Jaemin when it comes to Jeno’s secrets.

“So, you said yes?”

Jeno replies with a nod.

Jaemin’s phone light up with a notification. He flips it from where it’s resting on the table as he says, “Working with an ex is a recipe for disaster.”

“It’s work that pays well. I don’t think I’m in any position to refuse.”

Jaemin frowns, taking a swig of his coke. He squints his eyes, inches towards Jeno, looks at him with much concern and something foreign. The actor’s makeup is almost completely gone but it doesn’t make him any less beautiful. “I can never work peacefully in a project when an ex is involved.”

Jeno feels his lips turning upwards. “But you did, remember?” Jaemin gives him a puzzled look. “Kim Jungeun? You said you dated her briefly before and you did a Pocari Sweat ad with her last year?” Jaemin only pouts at him so he continues. “And the year before that, you did Baskin Robbins with Kim Chaewon, who you also dated and I quote, ‘had a memorable autumn with’, before. And what about that chicken commercial you did with Kim Min—”

“Hey, hey, hey, someone might hear,” Jaemin almost hisses. “Fine, I get it. But technically, they weren’t girlfriends.”

Jeno raises his hand in mock surrender, leaning back. “I don’t think I should be worried this early to be honest. We’re only showing them the finished choreo once or twice. And Jongin hyung said there’s no news yet of when they’ll be done with the sample.”

Jaemin seems satisfied with the answer, drawing away and dips his chopsticks back into his ramyun. They finish the rest of their dinner talking about Jaemin’s schedule for the upcoming week and the pre-production schedule for _The Seventh Sense_.

They continue the rest of their bike ride to Paldang bridge. Jaemin trails ahead, as per usual. Jeno’s catching his breath as he reaches the end of their trail, the bike rental stop when Jaemin’s phone rings. The actor looks at it briefly before pocketing it. Jeno thinks he knows who’s calling.

“Aren’t you gonna get that?”

Jaemin sighs as he signs his name on the bike rental shop’s logbook. Jeno follows. “I already did earlier. And I regret it.” They start walking towards the parking spot where they left the car earlier.

“It started off peacefully as always but then he just had to bring up the same old tiring thing again, Jeno.” Jaemin sounds more disheartened than aggravated. “I’m literally named as one of GQ Korea’s hottest actors under 30.” Jeno can’t help but grin at the title, it’s a caption they always poke fun at ever since GQ Korea released the list. “But apparently, it’s still not enough for him to consider what I do as an actual job.”

Jeno walks towards the driver’s seat, fishes the keys out of his pocket and presses unlock. Jaemin’s standing on the other side of the car, eyebrows creased in frustration.

Jeno still has no helpful advice for him, even after all these years of knowing him, even after all these years of learning to dance around the subject matter. He’s not in any place to do so, after all.

“He loves you,” Jeno says instead, not because it’s the easiest thing to say but because it’s the truth. “Maybe you need to be on Time’s list of ‘Most Ridiculously Successful People’ in the World for him to acknowledge your job, sure—” Jaemin laughs at that. “So how about we work on that, yeah?”

“Sure,” Jaemin answers with an easy smile, his newly dyed red hair gets slightly swept away by the cold spring air. Jeno opens the door to the driver seat.

“Hey, Jeno.”

Jeno looks back up, hand pausing on the door, waiting.

“Thank you, as always,” Jaemin says and Jeno knows he means it.

“I couldn’t imagine going through all of these—” The fondness in Jaemin’s eyes sparks some hope in Jeno’s gut. Jeno feels so warm in the midst of spring. “I couldn’t imagine reaching this far with anyone else.”

“Don’t go all sappy on me, Nana,” Jeno manages to say, despite the sudden condensation in his glasses. “It’s your talent that landed you on GQ Korea’s list.”

Jaemin laughs again, bright and easy. It’s one of Jeno’s favorite expressions on him. “Let’s go home, then, Jeno,” Jaemin says before comfortably seating himself at the passenger seat.

Jeno takes one last whiff of the cold spring air before going inside the car and starting it.

Spring is always the most beautiful by the Han River, but Jeno thinks the spring that sprung in his life three years ago—has never left his life since then, is the most beautiful kind.

As he lies in bed that night and looks at the teal ceiling of Jaemin’s guest room—a familiar thing he’s grown accustomed to over years of sleepovers, planned and unplanned, Jeno wonders if good things really aren’t meant to last forever.

_#Johlony Assemble! and 99 others liked this_

**Seoul is Burning✔**

@SeoulisBurningfilm

The power they have! 🔥 See more photos from last night’s #HKFF2020 premiere of #SeoulisBurning!

11:05 AM • 03/25/2020 • Twitter Web App

 **209** Retweets **1995** Likes

**#Johlony Assemble!** @mrsgoldensuh • 4h

Replying to @SeoulisBurningfilm

Can’t wait to be #SeoulBurned! 🔥🔥🔥 Congrats to maestro @JohnnySeo!! Already claiming #SeoulisBurningBestPicture for #Oscars2021!!! 😎

 **Anna, and a Flower** @parkjisungnoona • 2h

Replying to @SeoulisBurningfilm

My heart is full. 💚 Jisung and Chenle, destiny’s best friends who meet again as actors on #HKFF2020! 😭😭😭

 **yukjaem love club** @foryukjaem • 1h

Replying to @SeoulisBurningfilm

Best boys Yukhei and Jaemin together in an event!!! They said foryukjaem rights!!! 🤩

_Hong Kong, present day_

It’s a rainy afternoon in Central. Jeno makes his way towards the umbrella storefront disguise of _Foxglove_.

As the gold duck head in the umbrella bin next to the concierge is pulled, he finds himself transported back in time, with the interior of the bar reminiscent of luxurious cruise cabins from the 50s. He mentally notes to snap a couple of photos for Minjung, who’s been looking up peg interiors for the cafe for months now. The soft jazz music playing in the background completes the experience.

“Jeno!”

He spots Kwangsoo, who’s grinning at him goofily, towering over the other managers even as they’re comfortably sitting on the cushioned velvet seats of the establishment.

“We almost had a bet if you’ll bail on us and, you know—” Seungwan’s dark-lipped smile is coy as she gestures to the empty seat beside hers, Joohyun sitting next to it “—keep on playing house with Jaemin.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Renjun says as he plops down on another empty seat. “No work talk on managers’ night out, remember, noona?”

“Renjun’s right,” Joohyun sing-songs. “I love my job and I love Yeri but tonight—“ Joohyun picks up her glass of water and raises it, proposing a toast. “No work talk, darlings! Let’s focus on ourselves for once!”

“Amen,” says everyone, clinking their glasses together.

Jeno mouths a small _Thank you, noona_ to Joohyun.

“Well, we all know Jaemin’s never just work for you anyways.” It’s just a whisper but Jeno’s got the feeling it’s something everyone in the table has talked about more than once.

Jeno just leans back and hums a casual “Let me live tonight, noona.”

“Fine, fine, you big baby,” Joohyun coos, eerily reminding him of Minjung. “Go choose your order before I bring up Jaemin myself.” Soon, they look over the menu for French-Chinese fusion dishes they’d like to taste and the cocktails they’d like to try.

It’s their last free day in Hong Kong in this hectic week dedicated to _Seoul is Burning_ ’s promotions in the Hong Kong Film Festival. Said festival has a compressed schedule for the cast and crew, so most of their talents chose to spend their last free day in their hotels, including Jaemin, who already called it a day after the two of them bought a few souvenirs for Nari and Jeno’s folks in Tsim Sha Tsui hours ago.

“I had a chat with the store manager, and apparently—“ Renjun clicks his tongue. “Yukhei mentioned we would come.” The smile on Renjun’s face turned somewhat shy. “Should I have asked him to join us? I mean I still can—“

“Do you want to date him, Renjun-ah?” Joohyun levels Renjun with her gaze. Renjun shakes his head. “Then, don’t.”

The server arrives with a vintage push cart with their orders. The smoked salmon and pappardelle pasta that Jeno ordered looked especially inviting. He snaps a photo and sends it to Minjung and then to Jaemin. He’s normally not the type to take pictures of food he eats. And if Jaemin says he rubbed off on Jeno, Jeno would certainly deny it. It’s just that it’s easier to just share a photo rather than describe what his meal looked like. He’s sure Jaemin will ask him about it later anyways.

“Can’t Renjun ask Yukhei to join us as his friend?” The pout in Seungwan’s voice is apparent. “I mean, they were friends before Yukhei asked him out, right?”

Renjun groans. His history with Yukhei is popular gossip material in Dreaming Ent. Apparently, when the dashing actor hopeful from Hong Kong flew to South Korea to pursue his dreams, he fell in love with Renjun, who was just then a starting manager at Dreaming Ent. Dispatch even managed to come up with an article for them that was never released because Heechul firmly blocked it. The thought makes Jeno smile, makes him feel secured somehow.

“What do we feel about exes, Jeno?”

Jeno feels Kwangsoo’s eyes on him even as he’s looking at Seungwan who’s suddenly shifted the spotlight to him. He swirls the glass of martini in his hand. He thinks of Donghyuck, of what he’ll report to him later. He thinks of Dejun and Korean lessons traded with Mandarin ones within the four corners of their cerulean-wallpapered dorm room. “I thought they didn’t date.”

“Yes,” Joohyun pipes. “Because Renjun here, didn’t like him enough.”

“We were both just starting then. We would be a PR nightmare,” Renjun says with exasperation, already in the process of cutting his steak. “So we had a talk and mutually agreed to not start anything we can’t commit to.”

“Boring!” Seungwan exclaims with a pout.

“Well, at least, they talked about it,” Joohyun points, already halfway to her glass of Rosé. “Not saying anything is the worst.”

Jeno’s eyes find Kwangsoo’s, who’s looking down on his plate of risotto, the elder’s hand semi-frozen on his fork. His mouth opens and closes for a few times before he says, “Well, sometimes, not saying anything is for the best.”

“How’s not saying what has to be said should be the best?” Joohyun’s tone is more curious than interrogating. “I’d imagine it would be difficult.”

“It is,” Kwangsoo says, still not looking up as he takes a bite of his risotto. He chews for a few seconds before sighing heavily. “But if saying it might compromise the other person’s happiness then I think it’s better not to do anything.”

Seungwan and Renjun briefly exchange looks as Joohyun knits her eyebrows in thought before speaking up. “Well, I hope the person gets his happiness too.”

Kwangsoo looks up. Joohyun smiles, small but warm.

“Everyone deserves to be happy.”

It’s directed to Kwangsoo, who’s already offering a smile back, but somehow Dejun’s face keep flashing by in Jeno’s mind. The tireless days and nights of practicing with the other, dancing until their bones ache, with a clear goal but an unclear deadline.

“Hey, I’m sorry I’m late.”

All heads turn to Kun who promptly gestures for one of the servers for another chair and a set of menu.

“Chenle’s parents insisted I stayed for dessert but luckily, Chenle is all Hong Kong-ed out.” Kun grins. “So what did I miss?”

“Just same old, same old, ge,” Renjun replies. “Joohyun noona’s being wise as always.”

Kun and Joohyun both laugh at that. From across the table, Jeno sees Kwangsoo cracking a smile too.

Kun dispels any of the remaining tension from their previous topic.

He talks about Chenle’s folks and their own woes about setting up a Hong Kong branch of their restaurant. The Zhongs have been honing a steadily growing empire of restaurants that offer a fusion of traditional Chinese and Korean cuisine. Their only son, Zhong Chenle, however, dreamt of a life on stage, on theatre, which Mr. and Mrs. Zhong fully supported.

Jeno’s heard most of what he knows of Chenle from Jaemin, from filming with the theater star and from Renjun too, who he says might be Jisung’s crush at the moment. Everyone knows that isn’t the case, of course. Everyone, except Renjun himself, the one Jisung is actually crushing on. Donghyuck even smelled it as early as the cast’s first script reading. But that didn’t deter Donghyuck from making a move. _Now you know how lucky you are. You have practically no competition for Jaemin’s heart. You’re basically married._ Jeno had only smiled weakly at that, and swiftly changed the topic.

They’re halfway into their meals when Jeno’s phone buzzes with a message from Minjung. It reads _Fancy dinner with Jaemin?_

 _Nah_ , Jeno types and sends. He sends another one. _Out with Kwangsoo hyung and the others. Just us, managers. ^w^_

The next reply makes him laugh. _Good. Hopefully, they weed Jaemin off of your system even for just one night. ^___^_

When they exit _Foxglove_ a little before seven in the evening, Jeno gets a message from Jaemin.

_Jenooooooo ;___; I’m sorry I was on a very action-packed call with Mom._

He gets a few more messages.

_Did you finish that salmon???_

_It looks fiiiiiiine!_

_What’s that on top of the pasta?? :o_

Jeno tries to conceal the smile on his lips as he sends his reply. _Rabbit??? Ragout?? Don’t know how to say it though._

He sends another _. It’s okay. It’s not work, Nana. It’s okay to reply late. :) And yes, I did finish the salmon. ^_^_

“Hey, Jeno,” Kwangsoo says, nudging his shoulder. Jeno looks up from his phone. Renjun’s taking a call near the lamppost while Kun, Seungwan and Joohyun talk among themselves.

“Yukhei’s giving Renjun directions to the club he’s at,” Kwangsoo drawls, the elder’s voice hinting a bit of the effect from the cocktail they had earlier. He’s inched closer to Jeno but not quite leaning on him for support. “Wanna come?”

Jeno’s phone vibrates. He opens the message without a second thought. Kwangsoo doesn’t seem that he can read properly at this point anyways.

_I’m video-calling Nari in a bit. *__* Are you on your way back to the hotel?_

_“_ Yes,” Jeno says idly. Kwangsoo brightens for a second before Jeno corrects himself. “I mean, I’d love to come but I think I’m calling it a night.”

Kwangsoo‘s grin is dopey. Jeno calls Kun, Joohyun and Seungwan’s attention and bids them farewell, and Renjun too, who covers his phone for a bit to say, “Kunhang’s asking if you’re coming with us. Are you sure you want to break his heart, Jeno-yah?”

Jeno offers a sympathetic grin as he says, “Maybe next time?” Kunhang is the youngest among the assistant EPs for _Seoul is Burning_ at age twenty-six. The producer has been trying his best to be sweet to Jeno ever since their film festival campaign started. No particularly overwhelming advances have been made, but each time the elder tries to ask him out with just the two of them, Jeno only declines with the politest smile he can muster.

Renjun mumbles “Very well, then” and something along the lines of _Told him, his chances were low._ Jeno’s about to question the elder but is blocked by Kwangsoo engulfing him in a hug, awkward limbs and all.

Kwangsoo hugs him tightly, his breath a mix of the mushroom risotto and martini he had earlier.

“Say good night to Jaemin for me. And Nari, too.”

Before Jeno can even come up with a response, the elder is off of him in an instant, still smiling dopily. Kun takes him by the arm to hop off onto a cab with Seungwan holding out the door for them. Renjun and Joohyun ride the other cab. Joohyun waves goodbye one last time, rolling her window up as their cab leaves.

The cold spring air of Hong Kong blankets him as he smiles into his phone, opening his chat with Jaemin.

_I’m on my way back. Do you want anything?_

“When are you coming home?” Nari’s face is a little fuzzy on the screen of Jaemin’s Ipad. But Jaemin and Jeno are both aware of the pout she’s sporting.

“We’re flying back tomorrow, Nari-yah,” Jaemin says, setting aside his half-finished _gai daan jai_ on the table. “Do you want to sleep over at appa’s tomorrow evening? You can pick the movie you want us to watch.”

 _But you have an early call-time for the script reading of The Seventh Sense the morning after_ is what Jeno wants to say.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he finishes peeling off an egg and drops it into Jaemin’s bowl of congee. _Gai daan jai_ and congee seems to be quite an interesting combination for a not-midnight snack with the way the old man at Nathan Road had looked at him earlier. But it’s what Jaemin specifically requested. So Jeno just had to.

“Our team came up with our routine for our spring showcase,” Nari says, cupping her right hand around her mouth as if she’s saying a secret. Jeno can see Nari looking straight at him as she mumbles “I want you to see it for yourself, manager-nim.”

Jaemin clicks his tongue. “Here I thought you missed your poor old dad but really, you just can’t wait to show off to Jeno.” The actor crosses his arms, sporting a fake pout while doing so. “You wound me, Nari-yah.”

“I still like you better than Mark oppa, appa,” Nari says pointedly which makes Jaemin scoff.

Jeno laughs at the rest of their petty exchange as he finishes his own _gai daan jai._

“But you never tell me where exactly does Jeno rank in that list, honey.” Jaemin’s normally deep voice is whiny, higher in pitch, his own personal weapon when he wants to get his way. It always works on Jeno. But Nari’s a different case.

“I told you already, appa, Jeno oppa is in a separate list,” Nari announces in an as-a-matter-of-fact way. “He’s special. I’m his best friend.”

“You can’t be because I’m his best friend,” Jaemin says comically before breaking into a grin so fond that it makes Jeno feels he’s intruding in their important father-daughter moment. “Go to sleep, Nari-yah. Don’t make it hard for your mother to wake you up tomorrow.”

“Good night, appa,” Nari utters. She looks at Jeno too, the wifi connection turning choppy again. “Good night, manager-nim!”

Jaemin and Jeno mumble back different versions of good night before the video call ends.

From across Victoria harbor, light beams start shooting from the tall buildings across the Hong Kong skyline. 

Jaemin leans back in his chair, watching the play of lights dance in the vastness of the sky. Jeno looks at it too, wonders for how long will he get to keep all of these, keep his place in the orbit of Jaemin’s solar system—even if it might not be in the way he wants to.

“Injun said Kunhang hyung asked you to go clubbing with them. Why didn’t you?” Jeno makes the mistake of looking at Jaemin, who’s still leaning back on his seat, but with a gaze very much focused on Jeno, as if he’s ready to pierce him from the inside out.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, really, but I just—” Jaemin gets up, sits up straight still looking at Jeno. He’s always been doing it, the staring, but he’s doing a lot more of it lately. It’s always overwhelming to be at the receiving end of it, even if Jeno’s already had years of practice for it not to be. “I don’t want you not choosing to experience things just because of me, just because of working for me.”

Jaemin doesn’t know, doesn’t understand, of course.

There’s a premature confession, a shaky _I can’t because he’s not you. I can’t because I’m in love with you_ that sits dangerously on the tip of Jeno’s tongue. It’s long overdue and completely spilling from the seams now.

But the balcony of a five-star hotel overlooking Victoria Harbor isn’t the place for this. Jeno isn’t sure if there’ll ever be a place for this. Or even a time for this, for that matter.

“I’m just not looking for someone at the moment,” Jeno manages to put together. The _I don’t think I could ever look at anyone else who’s not you_ remains unsaid. “Plain and simple.”

Jaemin’s gaze doesn’t waver and for a moment Jeno’s afraid he’s going to see right through him, and unpeel the layers of his heart that has always belonged to Jaemin for quite a while now.

But then he smiles, so fragile and soft and suddenly it feels like it’s three years ago again, with Jaemin coming to him rejection after rejection. Jaemin never cries. The only hint of brokenness he carries is when he smiles, eyes stripped bare of the façade he puts on in front of the cameras. Jeno’s not sure if Jaemin knows this. That Jeno knows what Jaemin’s feeling just with the way he smiles.

There’s the smile after a rejection, after a strenuous day of filming test shots for a CF that he would eventually lose. There’s the smile he puts on when his parents come to visit him, with a month’s worth supply of Mrs. Na’s kimchi.

And then, there’s this. A smile that Jeno only sees Jaemin wear in front of a few people, including Jeno.

“You know I was originally not very fond of the idea of flying across the globe to promote,” Jaemin starts, hands restless as he talks. “Leaving Nari all the way home, missing her so much even if in reality we don’t even see each other for more than four times a week. And we still have more than half a year to go of these—” The look on Jaemin’s face is relief, contentment. ”But so far, and I know it might be too early to tell but—” Jaemin’s right hand scratches the nape of his neck, looking away from Jeno to look into the harbor.

“It doesn’t seem that bad, really. Most importantly because it’s you, here with me, that I’m managing pretty well. We’re managing pretty well. Because actually—” Jaemin looks like he’s catching his breath, the last of the presentation lights flickering on his profile.

“You’re home, too,” Jaemin finishes.

It’s so not _Jaemin_ , to not look at him in the eye as he says this. But Jeno will take it. He’s fine with this. It’s something he’ll play over and over in his mind as he lies on the comfortable hotel bed, hours before they have to wake up for their flight back to Seoul.

It’s something that will echo inside his head as he receives a short text from Minjung the moment their plane lands in Incheon. A short text that reads _It’s final, Jeno. We’re moving to Jeju for real._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- So a little background, apart from waxing gibberish abt this fic 24/7 on twt, this [vid](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tS5vMU8Ao_Q) is what made me want to write a romcom-jaemjen with celeb jaem and then I thought, Hey you already wrote celeb jaem before!!! But here we are...but idk if this can pass up as a romcom...  
> \- Also, one fandom ago, I wanted to write the road to oscars / film fest fic of my dreams all because of this [entertaining video essay on how a film gets a best picture oscar](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LjhoSv4Ood0). I originally wanted to link my video playlists but they are pretty cluttered rn so maybe, in the future!  
> ^_^  
> \- If anyone's confused, this is [Saerom](https://www.google.com/search?q=lee+saerom&sxsrf=ACYBGNRG87w8Rsf2jyjPq7x06B-LYlLnLA:1574608988158&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwi4yJjLk4PmAhUNQd4KHf-dDmcQ_AUoAXoECBQQAw&biw=1455&bih=723) and this is [Minjung](https://www.google.com/search?q=lee+minjung&sxsrf=ACYBGNTntVs1FVW01zLU1CIC5zZ3iHVK4Q:1574608992793&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjZurPNk4PmAhWMFIgKHaBqC0sQ_AUoAXoECBcQAw&biw=1455&bih=723) noona. And of course, this is [Na](https://youtu.be/K_923wBfXcA?t=291) [Nari](https://michyeosseo.tumblr.com/post/176639393633/kdramawomensweek-2015-inspirational-character). <3  
> \- As usual, feedback is appreciated! Especially on the minor cameos from some of the lovely ppl on twt who gave permission for their sns cameos! Feedback can be here or on [twt](https://twitter.com/jaemjaemis) or on [cc](https://curiouscat.me/cinemas)! Nari says see you on the next update/s! ( ~*-*)~  
> 


	2. the moon that wants to embrace the ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Outside, he sees the wind weaving through the leaves of the trees in the front yard. He watches them with a strange sense of peace, accompanied by the growing feeling he knows won’t be leaving anytime soon.
> 
> Fall has finally begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I am alive and still writing this. Hope you’re all managing well somehow, in these extraordinary times we’re in. 
> 
> Before proceeding, here’s a [visual guide](https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1tBln1HMy3clU0JEcjJjqQXytPIj9bh7FQTFlQeOMV2Q/edit?usp=sharing) of the important family members that you will be meeting in this chapter. 
> 
> Also, title for this chapter was mostly inspired by this [post](https://ink-splotch.tumblr.com/post/187650105309/purutsukid-the-moon-asks-a-question-by) that my beta linked me last year. <3 Here’s the link to the [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/37vO268ytbvBFsn7W0awxn?si=QrVZ94_xTYuH-2EJxrMSsQ) for this chapter. 
> 
> Special thanks again to my [beta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/curryramyeon/pseuds/tinygumdrops), [J](https://twitter.com/_bestboys), and Alex from ao3 whose [comment](https://archiveofourown.org/comments/296269711) from the previous chapter gave me the strength I needed as I closed this one. ;_;
> 
> See you at the end of the chapter! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

_Seoul, March 2017_

Jaemin finds out about Jeno’s weekend escapades two weeks before his audition for _In a Moment I’m Lost_.

Nari’s pretty stubborn, is what Jeno confirms after learning that she basically talked Saerom’s ears off, wanting to attend dance classes on weekends. Saerom had then talked it out with Jaemin extensively, leading to them agreeing on sending Nari to Universal Ballet’s program, which caters to children who have big dreams of a career in professional ballet in the future. 

The Saturday class lasts for two hours in the morning, and usually has Sunhwa Arts high school alumni as teachers. Jongin happens to be an alumnus and happens to be filling in for one session. And because Jeno always wants to learn more about the dance scene in Seoul—even if it’s the academic scene—he tags along with Jongin and bumps into Jaemin when he’s looking for the nearest drinking fountain. 

Jaemin sulks through the entire two hours of the class and all the way through lunch. Jeno had originally wanted to leave with Jongin to return to Incheon, but Nari had charmed her way into making Jeno join her and Jaemin for lunch, tugging on Jeno’s arm until he accepted it, Jaemin holding onto her other hand. Together, they raise their arms letting Nari dangle happily in the middle as they make their way towards the _samgyeopsal_ restaurant near Archasan station. 

“I’m sorry, manager-nim,” Nari says first as they settle down inside the restaurant. “You can’t quit! You haven’t even taught me yet. I haven’t even learned how to do pirouettes yet.”

Jeno raises an eyebrow as he asks “Aren’t they teaching you that already?”

“No, they aren’t” Nari replies with a pout. “But now I wish they should have already because you’re quitting and—“

“Ya,” Jaemin exclaims. “No one’s quitting, Nari-yah.” Jaemin’s face shifts from gentle to offended. “You’re seriously apologizing to him because his secret got revealed, but you’re not apologizing to me for not telling me anything?”

Jeno cracks a grin. 

“You,” Jaemin addresses Jeno with a pout. “You’re on the same boat as this kid. How dare you leave me out of your friendship circle. I’m really hurt.”

“It’s not manager-nim’s fault, appa. I wasn’t supposed to know. I wasn’t supposed to see him then!”

Jaemin shushes her playfully. “Can’t your _appa_ get mad at _his friend_ first?”

Nari crosses her arms in response, looks at Jeno with worry, mouthing an _I’m sorry_ . Jeno smiles at her in reply, mouthing a _It’s okay. Everything’s fine._

Jaemin’s pettiness dies down as they feast on the _samgyeopsal_ and _kimchi jjigae_ that are being brought to their table. Jaemin and Jeno both listen earnestly to Nari’s stories from her class earlier. 

Jaemin cooks the meat dutifully as Jeno cuts them in small bite-sizes before putting them on Nari’s plate. 

They both smile at Nari, who’s been brighter than usual, an excited Nari that Jeno’s looking forward to seeing much more. Jeno’s reminded of his own eleven-year old self, who saw DBSK performing _Rising Sun_ on their old TV set with an antenna that always falls off almost every day; Old man Jung from next door fixed it every now and then. Jeno remembers immediately thinking of wanting to go to Seoul and doing everything that he can to be like DBSK’s U-Know Yunho. An excited, bright-eyed Jeno promised his grandma he would make it, and that the next time she’d be seeing him is on TV. In return, she promised to talk everyone in Pyeongdae into tuning in to watch him once he makes an appearance on SBS Inkigayo. 

_Go fly on that small box,_ his _halmang_ had said to him, smiling and ruffling his hair affectionately _. The whole of Pyeongdae will be proud of you._

Jeno chalks every single memory down, as he sips on his _kimchi jjigae_ , catching Jaemin’s concerned gaze at some point. The unwarranted attention makes him choke. Jaemin’s quick to hand him a glass of water, but Nari beats her with a carton of Banana Milk.

“Sweetie, it’s water he needs,” insists Jaemin, which Jeno cuts off with a smile. 

“It’s okay,” Jeno says, making a show of gulping almost half of the Banana Milk. “Thank you,” he then says to Nari.

Nari beams at him, proud and triumphant, but immediately smiles in the smuggest way she can as she turns to Jaemin. “I saved him, _appa_! I’m a superhero!”

Jeno’s heart swells—her smile looks a lot like Jaemin’s. He sees it in the way Jaemin grins down at his daughter fondly, tugging her into his embrace as he pecks on her forehead.

“Yes, you did,” Jaemin says.

Jeno couldn’t agree more. 

  
  


After their lunch and an unplanned visit to Nari’s favorite bingsu place, Jeno volunteers to drive them home using Jaemin’s car, even if Jaemin insisted that it’s technically Jeno’s free day and that he’s not obliged to take them home. Jeno counters it by saying they have an early schedule on the next day anyways, so it’s much more convenient for Jeno take home Jaemin’s car. But Jaemin still isn’t convinced.

It’s Nari’s charms and her _Can’t we be with manager-nim for much longer?_ that eventually wins Jaemin over, and he ends up on the passenger seat as Jeno starts the car. Jaemin flips through the radio stations, seemingly in search of something particular.

“Here we go,” Jaemin finally says as the somewhat familiar opening bars of a song starts playing. 

“Hey! It’s Neo in the house!” Nari sings with glee. She sings along the song until it hits a part before the chorus, when it’s sang by a voice that is all too familiar to Jeno.

It’s the voice that sang for Jeno while he was learning to play the guitar as a supplementary skill as a trainee. It’s the voice that sang a mandarin folk song to Jeno as they huddled together under one blanket on the bottom bunk of a double-deck bed, the sweet melody lulling Jeno to sleep, his worried thoughts scattering in the crisp night air. 

Jaemin joins along with his daughter’s singing, and Jeno feels some kind of twinge in his chest, finally reminded that he’s actually heard the demo version of this song before, a rough version of it. It’s one of the songs that the management were choosing from for their debut single. It ended up not being chosen, which Jeno was aware of. But he didn’t know when exactly they released it as their single. Jeno’s never really made it a point to update himself with the songs they put out even if Yangyang still keeps on sending him a physical copy of their CDs in the mail. 

“Jeno?”

Jeno doesn’t see the point in knowing. Doesn’t see the point in dwelling on something that’s no longer of his concern.

“Are you alright?”

Jeno nods at Jaemin, offers him a smile, and fixes his eyes back at the road. 

When the radio dj announces the next song, the father-daughter pair don’t really pay attention to the music anymore, with Nari declaring how _Mark oppa is so good! I want to marry him, appa,_ which Jaemin immediately shuts down, saying Nari is too young to be thinking about that and that he doesn’t see how Mark is that good, anyways. Nari could only hiss defensively and list down why she’s right. 

Jeno could back her up, with first-hand information on Mark’s professionalism even as a trainee. But then again, he’s keen on keeping his past and present apart, for as long as he can. Or for as long as he has this job. Minjung’s _You’re not going to be a manager forever, right, Jeno?_ echoes faintly in his mind.

The banter continues throughout the rest of the ride. Jeno keeps quiet, drowning thoughts of his past and future with their playful jibes. But as he watches them get off of the car and bids them both goodbye—Jaemin pouting as he mouths a _We still have to talk about this_ as he closes the gate to his house—Jeno wonders when exactly will it really stop hurting. 

It’s been almost five years since Jeno’s walked out of SM Entertainment, the only dream he’s ever wanted to carve for himself. He wonders if adults were wrong, and that time really won’t heal everything.

By the time he parks Jaemin’s car inside the garage of Minjung’s home Jeno gets a text from Jaemin. The text reads _Thank you for today, manager-nim. I’m always thanking you but please never get tired of it. :D_

He feels himself smiling genuinely for the first time for the day, typing a simple _You’re welcome,_ and sends it before taking a shower and calling it a day. He’s drying his hair with a towel when he reads another reply from the actor that says _I have no idea where Nari got the idea of firing you once I find out about your dancing._

Another ping. 

_You’re not going anywhere, Lee Jeno-ssi!!! >_< _

And another.

_And I want to see you dance, one day! Dance your way into my heart, manager-nim! : > _

Jeno feels lighter as he plops down on his bed, idly wondering how smooth and easy Jaemin must have been when it comes to people he wants to date. The thought is gone as soon as he switches his bedroom lamp off, laughing at himself for even considering the idea of being flirted with by a somewhat single dad, who clearly prefers women.

  
  
  


**najaemofficial** ✔

[PHOTO POST: Photo of flowers in full bloom along Seokchon Lake]

Liked by **jeonheekkie** and **8,130 others**

 **najaemofficial** Today is a good day to make the people you love happy! Eat your meals on time and take care, everyone. 😘

View all 23 comments

30m ago

**Comments**

**brilliantjaem** The flowers are truly the most beautiful on this time of the year. I hope you always find reasons to smile, Nana! 😍

23m

 **najaenmin** Can nana recommend what food is best to eat on such a beautiful spring day such as today? 😃

18m

 **minhojaem** That’s a lovely photo, Nana! Thank you for sharing. Is it a particularly special day for you today? 😊

13m

  
  
  
  


_Seoul, present day_

“He’s going to play the role of South Korea’s Most Handsome Bachelor.” Donghyuck snickers on the other line. “Just you wait and see.”

Jeno scoffs through his phone, looking over his mom over the rack of clothes. “I told you already. He’s got a dentist appointment today and a short lunch with his parents.” 

His mom sees him and carries the pile of scarves over her left arm, gesturing a thumbs up with her right hand. Jeno raises a thumbs up back, promptly adjusting the paper bags hanging on his other arm. 

“Jaemin’s a smooth criminal when it comes to wooing his targets, Jeno. It just so happens that for some reason it took him this long to bring out the big guns against you.” There’s murmurs from the actor’s end, with Donghyuck seemingly covering his phone for an instant before saying, “It’s always nice discussing the intricacies of how Na Jaemin’s mind works, but we’re resuming recording now. I gotta go, Jeno.”

“Good luck with pre-recording, then. Tell Seungwan _noona_ I said hi,” Jeno says. He can hear shuffling before Donghyuck replies with “Good luck with Casa Nana! Tell me every single greasy detail!”

Jeno ends the call and approaches his mom with his credit card. 

“Is that Nana?” The question is whispered but somehow Jeno’s sure the personnel behind the register can hear her, voice thick with Jeju _satoori_. He’s always positively overwhelmed upon hearing it in person, since Minjung and him have mostly adapted the Seoul accent with only one or two slips in the midst of arguments.

“Is he coming over today?” The curly ends of her hair flops on her narrow shoulders. “Why am I even asking? Of course, he’s coming, isn’t he? He knows that your _abang_ and I are coming to visit right?”

Jeno shakes his head. “It’s not him and no, he has prior appointments he has to attend to but yes, he does know about you and _abang_ coming. He told me to enjoy my long weekend and that he’ll try to not call me all throughout.”

“That’s too bad, then.” His mom sighs as she reaches out for the paper bag with the items she just bought. “Your _abang_ and I brought the _galchi jorim_ we caught two days ago. Jaemin loved that from the last time we came here. I also made sure to pack a hefty amount of abalones and cuttlefish for the _haemultang_ that we will be cooking for later.”

Jeno scoffs a little bit too dramatically, as they head out of the thrift store and into the street outside. “Well, too bad, you’ll just have to settle with your biological son today.” 

“Ya,” his mom quickly says, linking her left arm with Jeno’s right. “You know you’re still my number one favorite son—” Jeno whips his head towards her, the _I’m your only son_ already about to launch from his mouth. She shushes him on sight. “I mean he’s practically family now, too, yes? With you dating and all.”

The walking slows down on Jeno’s end. “We’re not—” He clears his throat. The people around them couldn’t hear them, probably, but Jeno is scandalized nonetheless. “We’re not dating, mom.”

His mom stops walking completely, turning to Jeno, her face incredulous. “What do you mean you’re not—”

“We’re really not dating.” Jeno makes a move for them to resume walking. He thinks of Minjung and the impending lecture about moving and applying for jobs that will surely come later during dinner. “I don’t think we ever will.”

His mom pinches his right ear. 

“Ouch!” Jeno yelps, eyeing her incredulously. 

She’s frowning at him and reaches out once more to pinch his arm that’s locked with her left. “What did I tell you about taking chances so you won’t regret anything later on?”

Jeno frowns. That’s what she told him when he was having cold feet prior to his audition for SM Entertainment. He honestly doesn’t think it applies to his situation with Jaemin right now. He gets straight to the point, wanting to shut down the topic before it progresses even further.

“I can’t just say I love him and then leave him afterwards,” Jeno says, meaning every single word of it. “I can’t do that to him, mom. I don’t even know if I’m allowed to hope for any inkling that he will return any of my feelings. But the fact that I’m not staying any longer proves there’s no point in trying.”

His mom stops walking with Jeno doing the same. The three-story Innisfree store lies a few meters ahead of them, and she tiptoes to hug him out of the blue. Jeno melds into it.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s not my business,” his mom starts, her voice muffled, hug growing tighter with every second, making Jeno feel comforted in the middle of the hustle and bustle of Myeongdong. “I just don’t want your heart breaking with regrets of an unconfessed love.”

Jeno believes his mom’s words are made of magic. It didn’t fail to ease the pain in his heart eight years ago and it sure didn’t lose its effect now, his heart feeling lighter somehow.

“I know you mean well, mom,” Jeno finally replies. “I know you do. And I love you for it.” He takes a deep breath. “But I want to leave as his friend, not someone whose love he can’t accept.”

She pulls away from him, adjusting the paper bags in her right arm. “We’ll love you enough for him, then.”

Moments after, they’re back to their arms linked as they resume walking but Jeno feels as if the warmth from her hug never left.

  
  
  
  


“I thought you said he’s got prior commitments today?” Minjung asks pointedly, not really hiding the contempt in her voice.

The commotion in the Jung-Lee living room is too loud anyways for anyone to hear her sentiments. His dad, Bongju and Jaemin are huddled together playing _Go Stop._ Meanwhile, Haejin is punching his third song onto their mini noraebang machine. His audience comprises his mom, Chaera, Nari, Ryujin, along with Doah and Minhee, who are other dancers that joined Incheon Dance Company months after Jeno and Ryujin did.

“Good thing we still got a stock of Banana Milk for Nari.” Minjung scrunches her nose as she takes two of them out of their refrigerator. “And another for her dad.”

“Yes!” Jaemin triumphantly cheers from the living room, loud enough that it’s still heard over Haejin’s boisterous rendition of _Shabang Shabang_ . The actor slams his card down on the wooden floorboards with so much gusto, almost shaking the living room. “Isn’t it safe to say that the student has surpassed his teacher, _abang_?” 

Jeno just knows Minjung’s already rolling her eyes like clockwork at Jaemin’s familiarity. He quickly grabs Nari’s and Jaemin’s Banana Milk and a bowl of abalones and makes a beeline for the living room. 

His dad’s already shuffling the cards for another round, mild amusement written on his face as Jaemin continues to bask in his very much fresh _Go Stop_ victory. Bongju, who’s just casually watching his dad and Jaemin, gets up to join the others in front of the television as Haejin’s audience. Jeno crouches down to offer one of the Banana Milk to Jaemin who accepts it with a sweet smile. 

“He’s right, Jeno-ya,” his dad starts, momentarily stopping from dealing the cards, presumably to go for a restroom break. “He’s a fast-learner, this one,” he says one last time. 

“Well, because you’re a great teacher, that’s why!”

Jeno’s mind flashes to Jaemin’s favorite pastime of learning how to play _Go Stop._

 _My mom never taught me how to play this_ is what Jaemin had said to him. Jeno had asked what brought up his interest in the game and Jaemin had only looked at him for a second before looking back at his phone saying _I want to play better the next time your dad comes to visit._

It’s one of Jaemin’s admirable traits, he thinks. When he’s really dead set on something, he really goes all out, gives it his all. Be it learning the surfaces and layers of the characters he plays to heart—whether he’s a purple reptile in an animated film or the cunning ego-centric anti-hero to Do Kyungsoo’s selfless hero—or the basic tricks of a traditional Korean card game that’s mostly played by elders.

“Is this other one for Nari?” 

Jeno nods, watches as Jaemin gets up from his spot to call out to Nari, who’s tirelessly amused at Haejin trying to stay in tune to a Park Hyoshin ballad. 

“He never misses your birthday, does he?”

Jeno makes a move to get up, turns to find Ryujin plopping down on the nearby bean bag with a can of _shikhye_. “I don’t really keep count,” Jeno says, inching a bit closer to where she’s seated. He mulls over all his birthdays ever since he started to work as Jaemin’s Manager, and finds that Ryujin’s right.

“Yeah,” he then says, for a lack of a better word. “You could say he doesn’t miss it.” Jeno remembers Jaemin sending _jjajangmyeon_ for everyone in the studio on his first birthday as the latter’s manager and boxes and boxes of Chicken wings on the next. “He’s just being sweet and all.”

Ryujin only gulps the rest of the contents of her _shikhye_ , wiping off the traces of it from her chin with the sleeve of her blouse. “Then, why doesn’t he ask you out?” 

Jeno feels his cheeks redden, still stunned by her forwardness at times. He’s learned most of the women in his life are, when it comes to him, when it comes to Jaemin most especially.

Ryujin sets down her empty can, inching closer to Jeno. “It’s very simple,” she starts, gesturing with her hands in a back-and-forth motion. “You like him. He likes you.” Her tone is casual, almost as if she’s just saying the weather for the day. “Make me understand, oppa.” 

Her eyes are pleading, like she’s asking for something that Jeno can’t give. “I feel like you’re just running in circles.” It’s a direct hit, and Jeno could only remain quiet. “Kinda like how you are everytime Jongin oppa asks if you want to be endorsed for a formal dance certification program.” She covers her mouth as soon the words are out. 

Jeno tries for the sincerest grin he can in response, but offers her nothing else. 

She takes off her hand and mouths an _I’m sorry_ before getting up to leave. Jeno tries to follow her but is stopped by a gentle grip on his wrist. 

Jaemin suddenly pops up in his direct line of vision. “Is everything okay, Jeno? You were gone for a while.” Jaemin looks at him earnestly, as if he’s the most fragile thing in the world. It’s an illusion Jeno knows he has to overcome. 

“Yes, Jaemin-ah.” He gently pries off the other’s grip on him. “Everything’s fine.”

At around half past six, Kwangsoo and Renjun arrive, both bearing gifts of some sort. 

Jaemin looks almost tangibly dejected, especially with Renjun handing Jeno a box, which says _From Wong Kunhang to the Birthday Boy, Jeno_ on the lemon-scented card attached to it. Jeno briefly catches Jaemin and Renjun exchanging looks that he purposely ignores, knowing how they normally talk on their own frequency, being best friends and all. 

The little party turns a little bit wilder with his dad teaching everyone how to properly drink the _makgeolli_ that Jeno’s _halmang_ had been saving for special occasions. It’s the first time his parents brought some with them, and his heart squeezes bitter sweetly at the thought of his _halmang_ helping with the packing of it all. 

Ryujin, Doah and Minhee bid their goodbyes after their second drink, wanting to be able to go home before it gets too dark. Ryujin greets Jeno last, mumbling an apology before avoiding his gaze, still clearly feeling guilty from their conversation earlier.

It’s during their viewing of one of the episodes to Jaemin’s previous drama when Jaemin corners him by the kitchen counter. Jeno holds out a tray of the freshly baked muffin Minjung made earlier. Jaemin waltzes into the kitchen, grabbing one of the bigger plates and starts transferring the muffins from the tray. 

“I thought they’d never leave,” Jaemin murmurs. 

“You’re hopeless,” is what Jeno says, placing the tray on the kitchen sink. Jaemin’s next to him in an instant, switching the faucet to soak the tray on the waiting basin. 

Jaemin levels him with a look and asks, “Am I really?”

Jeno laughs lightly, reaching out for the towel to dry his hands. As soon as he’s done, Jaemin gets it from him, hangs it back on its place. 

“I mean I actually like her. Sweet girl, really polite, especially to you,”Jaemin says. “But for some strange reason, it seems to me that she’ll never like me.”

Jeno opens the refrigerator, and gets a pitcher of water. Jaemin’s quick to fetch a glass for both of them.

“She’s just got a tough exterior but she’s really kind,” Jeno says, filling one of the glasses, and offers one to Jaemin who accepts it instantly. They drink at the same time with Jaemin drinking almost half of it. 

“To you she is, of course,” Jaemin grumbles.

Jeno knits his eyebrows, vaguely hearing his mother coo with Jaemin’s character romancing the drama’s female lead, Kim Yoobin, who Jeno remembers to have fallen for Jaemin’s charms all throughout filming. He’s trying to look anywhere but at Jaemin and hears Jaemin sigh. 

“Ah, Jeno,” the actor says, inching closer, trapping him somehow. “Sometimes, you’re really just so—“

Jeno finally looks back. “What?”

Jaemin looks like he’s looking for the right words. “Unaware of your effect on people.”

An instant warmth spreads across Jeno’s cheeks, his back burning against the counter. He’s not exactly cornered, but Jaemin feels like a wall, Jeno’s own personal wall of unrequited affection closing in on him after years of being held back. It’s suddenly hot and Jeno forgets his filter when he says, “You’re one to talk.”

There’s a strange look that flashes in the other’s eyes. Jeno looks away from it, tries to reach for the forgotten batch of muffins he’s supposed to bring over to the living room. 

“I should,” Jeno tries to say, trying to get away from the scene of his inevitable downfall. Jaemin stops him, holds onto his right hand.

“Jaemin,” he mumbles, hoping it gets the message through. That it’s all too much. That _Jaemin’s too much_. And if he doesn’t step back, Jeno’s afraid of what’s going to happen. The plate of muffins feels heavy on his left hand when he says, “I should bring these over.”

The weight of Jaemin’s hand holding onto his is heavier though, sending electricity through his skin without meaning to. 

“My little brother’s right.” Minjung’s voice slices through the tension.

Jeno’s more than thankful for it as Jaemin steps back, but only by little. 

Minjung still looks like she’s unhappy with it. “The muffins are getting colder.” Her eyebrows knit in thought. “Or did you make new ones? Because it’s simply too hot in here right now I’d believe you if you say you baked a new batch.” 

Jaemin laughs, breathy. He and Minjung share a look that Jeno can’t seem to understand. Minjung breaks it off first, looking back at Jeno with somewhat like pity before walking away. Jeno misses the part where Jaemin pries the plate of muffins off of his hands so he can bring it instead. 

Jaemin smiles at him like Jeno’s the sun in his own solar system before making his way back to the living room leaving Jeno’s hand empty, heart recovering.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Jaemin bids them goodbye at around eight, since Nari’s currently taking intermediate ballet classes at Sunhwa Arts Highschool on Saturdays. 

Renjun decides to leave with them after realizing Kwangsoo’s going to be sleeping over, having already passed out on the couch, evidently from all the drinking games he’d indulged Jeno’s dad with. Kwangsoo was always one of his parents’ favorites, even their grandparents’ actually; Kwangsoo had been orphaned at a young age, and Jeno’s grandparents took care of him right before he decided to move to Seoul to become independent. From then on, Jeno’s always seen Kwangsoo as a role model, having been brave enough to move away from the comfort of Jeju and flinging himself to the unpredictable capitalist jungle that is Seoul. 

Renjun says his farewells to Jeno’s folks first, thanking them for the packed abalones they gave him. The nearest parking lot is almost three meters away from the house, so Renjun goes right ahead, where he can meet Jaemin and Nari halfway. 

Jeno excuses himself to walk with Jaemin and Nari. His parents spend a longer time hugging Nari and patting her head like she was their own grandchild. Jeno feels his heart flutter, and looks away. He puts his shoes on first, packed abalones and _galchi jorim_ on hand. His mom had prepared it with so much enthusiasm and care earlier, that Minjung quietly narrowed her eyes at Jeno as if to say _This has got to stop._

Much of his thoughts scatter like fine dust the minute he steps outside, the evening air welcoming him in gentle hushes.

“Hop onto my back then,” Jaemin announces from behind. Jeno turns to them and sees Nari doing as she’s told and yawns, clamping her legs around Jaemin’s waist and settling over his back. “She would have wanted to stay longer. Can you believe it that I’m the one who wants to go home earlier?”

“You’re getting old,” Jeno jokes. 

“Is appa’s hair going to turn white for real?” Nari mumbles. She scratches her eyes gently, looking like she’s trying to fight off the sleepiness. 

Jaemin laughs, seemingly unperturbed by Nari’s weight on his back. 

Jeno smiles to himself, feeling as if he’s intruding in an intimate moment between a parent and his child. _It’s always been like this_ , Jeno’s mind supplies. _Well at least you won’t be intruding for very much longer._

“Thank you, Jeno,” Jaemin says, gaze soft. _There it is again_ , Jeno thinks. “I think your parents packed us a month’s worth of abalones,” Jaemin adds, mouth pointing towards the packed food on both of Jeno’s hands. “They’re always so kind to me and Nari, most especially. It’s nice being treated like family, really.”

Jeno’s entire face feels warm even with the tickling wind of spring. Here goes Jaemin’s overwhelming gratitude again. It makes Jeno feel a little guilty. It’s as if Jaemin knows they’re living on borrowed time so he’s being extra vocal about these things while he still can.

“You’re awfully quiet the entire night,” Jaemin starts, lips pouting without probably meaning to. The image of a cute Jaemin easily giving Nari a piggyback ride would be a pleasing post on the actor’s social media accounts. But Jeno knows when to draw the line with publicly sharing things with Nari in them. Jaemin still quite likes his privacy after all. 

Jaemin utters suddenly, “Nari’s asking me if you weren’t feeling well earlier, Jeno.” 

Jeno’s steps slow down at that. Nari’s always been as observant as her dad, pointing out little things here and there and asking about them to Jaemin, to Jeno and of course to Yuna too when she’s at home babysitting. 

Jaemin cranes his neck to look at Jeno, when the latter hasn’t spoken. “She worries about you too, you know,” he says.

“I know,” Jeno says eventually. He sees that Nari has already fallen asleep on Jaemin’s back, the ends of her untied hair slightly blown away by the passing wind. He wonders if this is the right moment to say it. Minjung had told him about Haejin’s new work assignment that’s starting on January, but that he’ll have to start the turnover around December, meaning that they’d have to move to Jeju sooner, perhaps around November. That’s roughly six months from now.

Jeno’s steps are getting heavier. Being the coward that he is, he tries to start another topic instead. “Do you ever think about it?” Jaemin’s listening even as he’s looking ahead. The words come out of Jeno’s mouth on their own. “About Nari getting a new mom again?” 

Jaemin stops on his tracks, looks at Jeno as if he’d said something funny, rather than looking offended. 

“Why’d you ask that?” The corners of the actor’s lips turn upwards, eyes studying Jeno. 

Jeno feels himself folding in, already regretting his choice of a new topic. He looks away, tries to keep on walking normally, wishing the topic ends if he ignores it.

“Saerom’s already doing fine as it is,” Jaemin notes. His eyes go wide when he says “Do you think she’s doing a bad job at it?”

“No, no, no. I don’t mean it like that.” Jeno wants nothing but the ground to swallow him whole. “I meant—“ He closes his mouth, opens it, closes it and opens it again. He’s never really gotten the hang of the flustering questions that Jaemin throws his way. 

Jaemin seems to catch onto his dilemma and just laughs at him. Jeno thinks it’s the years of answering questions from the press that honed Jaemin into carrying conversations so effortlessly, even ones that may fluster him in some way.

“I think Nari’s receiving so much love as it is,” Jaemin says. “From me, from Saerom, from both of her grandparents. Heck, she’s loved by your family too.” 

The happiness in Jaemin’s voice is infectious. It courses through Jeno’s veins as well, making him want things that he can never have.

And Jaemin adds, too softly that almost Jeno doesn’t hear, “And then there’s you.”

 _Not for long, I’m afraid,_ Jeno’s heart whispers to the wind.

The smile on Jaemin’s lips just grows wider. The guilt in Jeno’s gut sizzles louder. 

“I think we’ll continue to get by just fine,” Jaemin says. “Don’t you?”

 _I’m leaving Seoul soon, Jaemin_ dangles from the tip of his tongue. _I’m leaving you._

Jeno sees it, sees the undivided attention in the other’s eyes. Jeno sees that it’s now or never.

“Jaemin, I—“ 

They hear a car horn from across the street. 

It’s Renjun, waving from the driver seat of his car.

They cross the street and make their way towards Renjun’s Audi. Jaemin settles Nari down on the backseat as Jeno places the packed dishes beside her. Jeno’s closing the car gently, making sure it doesn’t wake Nari from her sleep, when Jaemin sneaks up on him. 

“Hey,” Jaemin starts, one hand softly resting on Jeno’s right arm, his other hand already on the door handle of the passenger seat. “You were gonna say something earlier. What is it?”

Jeno’s heart takes over. 

Jongin told him sometimes the body just knows what to do, not just in dancing, but in other things, too. This time, apparently, Jeno’s body wants to hug Jaemin, engulfing him with his most heartfelt wordless apology for being such a coward about fessing up on leaving. 

Jaemin doesn’t move, doesn’t recoil. Instead, the other’s arms rest on his back, patting it in soothing motions. Jeno feels himself breaking. 

“Thank you for tonight,” Jeno says, words muffled on the other’s clothed shoulder. “Thank you for everything.” _For making me feel like I belonged somewhere again_ goes unsaid.

He doesn’t give Jaemin a chance to reply as he pulls away and urges a wide-eyed Jaemin into the front passenger seat.

The walk home is significantly colder. Jeno braves through it by hugging himself, thinking that he has to start re-learning how to live a life without Jaemin in it.

  
  
  
  
  
  


“Did he kiss you good night?” is the first thing Minjung says to him as he settles on hers and Haejin’s bed. 

Jeno naturally offered his bedroom to their parents, and this initially led him to sleeping in the living room, on the other couch where Kwangsoo had soundly slept. But Haejin stepped in and said Minjung and Jeno could use the extra bonding time, seemingly aware of the strange mood between the siblings all throughout the night.

“Always so straightforward, noona,” Jeno says, choosing to look up at the maroon ceiling. He’s faintly reminded of the teal one in Jaemin’s house. “Are you going to interrogate me all night?” He supports himself by his elbows as he sits up, eyes coming in contact with Minjung’s unamused ones in the mirror. “I think Haejin hyung thinks we’re fighting.”

“But we _are_ fighting.” Her hands pause mid-air from patting the moisturizer that their mom and him had brought earlier. “On second thought, it’s actually just me wanting for you to get this whole thing over with.” 

He bites his lip, thinking the conversation is unavoidable and that there’s no such thing as a birthday pass with his outspoken noona. 

“I tried to tell him earlier,” he says, keeping his eye contact with Minjung’s on the mirror. “I chickened out, of course. But I have a couple of months left, right?” He looks down on his hands, brings them together on his lap, not knowing what to do with them. Jeno always thought he was good with goodbyes. He did it once. He could do it again. _Right?_ “I think I’ll have to tell Heechul hyung soon though. They’ll have to find a replacement soon for a proper turnover.”

“ _That_ , you really have to settle soon. As for the other thing…” she trails off. There’s a dip on the bed and Minjung’s hands come to find his. “I’m sorry for always coming on too strong about this,” she starts. 

Jeno looks up to find an apologetic expression on Minjung’s face. 

Minjung inhales sharply, before saying, “About Jaemin.” Her hold on his hands grows tighter, secure. Jaemin lets her. “I just think this confusing tango of tension that’s been going on between you two is really frustrating for us onlookers.” Her eyebrows crease in worry. “I can only imagine how much worse it is for you.”

Jeno just grins, and Minjung takes it as her cue to turn off the light. Jeno lies down, faces Minjung as she does the same.

He’s about to close his eyes when Minjung asks, “Didn’t he ever make a move on you?” 

A giggle breaks free from his lips. 

“I’m serious, Jeno” is what she says, but the laugh she lets out makes him think otherwise. “I honestly find it hard to believe that he hasn’t explicitly spelled it out for you yet when he’s practically acting like you’re married.” She leans away, but continues, “It’s those eyes of his, really. No wonder his co-stars keep falling for him.”

There’s a fleeting memory of a kiss, a heated one, burning at the back of Jeno’s eyelids. It’s as if it’s yesterday. Jeno thanks the darkness for hiding the warmth filling his cheeks.

“And I know I’m not just imagining him sending daggers towards Ryujin’s way,” Minjung insists. “He’s got like this Jeno censor on him that beeps whenever a threatening party comes to you within a one-meter radius.”

Jeno squints his eyes, right cheek comfortably squished on the pillow as he controls the laugh bubbling in his throat. 

“ _JPS_ ,” she whispers in a voice that resembles Siri, her eyes growing larger despite the sleepiness. “ _Jeno Positioning System_.”

Jeno breaks into a laugh, lying on his back as he does so.

“Ya,” she calls out. Jeno turns to face her again, both of them on their sides, facing each other. 

“You don’t have to answer my question if you don’t want to.” There’s still a bit of a fight in her voice even if she’s growing sleepier with every syllable. “I’m always just curious given how smooth he is. He’s a charming lad. He’s charmed the entirety of South Korea, after all.” 

“No, there’s been no such advances whatsoever,” Jeno finally says. He inches closer, inspects Minjung who’s already got her eyes closed. “Are you excited about Jeju?” 

She opens her eyes once more, significantly looking brighter even in the dark. She mouths a _Yes, I am._ The grin on her lips grows wider by the sound of her reply. There’s another soft _I’ve never been this happier_ before she closes her eyes once more, finally surrendering to sleep.

 _I’m happy for you too_ is what Jeno whispers back before turning to lie down on his back. 

When he closes his eyes, he dreams of his _halmang_ , the pier he grew up in, the sea within his reach and Jaemin and Nari who are smiling at him, bright and blinding, as if he were the sun.

  
  
  


_Seoul, May 2017_

Jeno watches Jaemin get his heart broken twice on the day he’s rejected from _In a Moment I’m Lost_.

Not many words are exchanged as Jaemin puts on a forced smile as they walk out of the KBS building. Jeno knows Jaemin wanted this particular project, this particular role, since it’s a lead role in a drama that’ll be airing on a major broadcasting station. Jaemin had passed the initial casting call and somehow, there’s already been talk of him fitting the role that rumors have already spread in forums all over the internet. He’s far from being traditionally famous, but he’s still got some kind of loyal following to which Jaemin has always been thankful for.

“Maybe I aimed too high, huh,” Jaemin tries to joke as Jeno starts the engine.

From the rearview mirror, Jeno sees the actor slouched slightly against the backseat, nothing like the proper posture he usually maintains. He’s still smiling but it’s a broken one, all tired and defeated.

Jeno reaches out to the seat beside him, grabs hold of the script for _And We’ll Sail For Ithaca,_ and hands it out to Jaemin. “Better to have aimed than not aimed at all,” he says to the actor.

“You always know the right words to say, don’t you?” Jaemin’s question sounds rhetorical so Jeno says nothing. He could hear the flipping of pages and quickly tells Jaemin, “You don’t have to look through it now and just look at it later when you get home—” Jeno cuts himself off, not sure if he’s even made the rejection worse by offering another script right away. “Just that if _that_ wasn’t for you, then maybe this one right here is.”

“As a purple lizard,” Jaemin almost scoffs out. “Baekdong is the friendly purple reptile who accompanies Pilsuk on her voyage to Ithaca.” Jaemin’s amusement grows as he further reads on the character description that Jeno highlighted on the script. “What has Nari been telling you Jeno?”

“That you look like that one character from Monster’s Inc. sometimes,” Jeno honestly replies, reminded of how Nari’s eyes twinkle over parading how her dad uncannily resembles the purple lizard.

“I think you’re beginning to speak like Nari. I won’t be surprised if she’ll completely forget about Yuna at this point,” Jaemin says, and Jeno just lets out a laugh at that. “Ever considered working with children?”

“Not really,” Jeno answers right away, but quickly thinks of ICD’s mini-crash courses on dancing. He’s only been to three schools as of the moment, but he figures he wouldn’t mind going to a couple more.

“Well, you should think about it,” Jaemin offers.

Jeno smiles at him via the rearview mirror. “Maybe, I will.”

When he looks back ahead, he sees the shops lining up on the side of the street. “Any dinner plans?” Jaemin asks, seemingly following his line of thinking. 

“None that I know of yet,” Jeno says.

The sound of papers turning fills the car. “Well, if you’re free, you can join me for sukiyaki at home, later.”

Jeno hums as he turns right. “I’ll let my manager know and get back to you.”

Jaemin laughs.

They’re a few blocks away from Dreaming Ent’s HQ office when Jaemin’s phone rings. Jeno catches the flurry of expressions in the actor’s face, changing from surprise to distraught through the rearview mirror.

As soon as Jaemin ends the call, he instructs Jeno to drive to Dongchul Elementary School. Jeno steps on it without another word.

He finds a parking space quickly and follows Jaemin as they walk through the familiar corridors to get to Nari’s classroom. Before they reach their destination, Jeno’s stopped by the sight of a red-faced Nari trying to reach for a boy that’s almost twice her size. Saerom is holding her back while the teacher stands in between her and the boy. Jaemin walks to Nari’s side as the scuffle is broken off.

There’s uncertainty in his steps as Jeno walks forward, not knowing if he’s needed in the situation. He vaguely hears the boy get told off gently by Kim seonsaengnim as a middle-aged couple comes out of the room labeled _Guidance Counselor’s Office._ Jeno assumes the couple to be the boy’s parents. They walk off with him, slinking past Jeno. 

Jeno sits down on the nearest set of chairs as Kim seonsaengnim enters the same room with Jaemin, Saerom and a still furious Nari. He’s thankful the walls aren’t thin and that he can barely hear a wisp of their conversation from where he’s sitting. 

He opens LINE to reply to messages from Minjung, Kwangsoo, the twins, Jongin and one from Ryujin, who’s asking if Jeno would like to join them tonight because the newest crew members are going out for a drink. Jeno tells her he’ll get back to her later, then the door to the Guidance Counselor office opens.

Jeno wordlessly walks ahead to the car and lets the engine roaring to life distract him from the faint exchanges between Jaemin and Saerom.

The ride to Saerom’s home in Gangnam is heavy with both Jaemin and Saerom urging Nari to explain her side of the story.

Nari says nothing, keeps her eyes forward, glaring into the distance, hands folded tightly into her lap. Saerom seems like she has more energy to spare to urge her daughter into speaking, but she sighs heavily in resignation. She tells Jaemin that they’ll have to talk about this some other day if Nari’s not in the mood to speak.

Saerom catches Jeno staring at her through the rearview mirror and Jeno looks away. He’s never really had directly interacted with Nari’s mom before and only knows her through anecdotes from Jaemin and Nari, all of who had painted her to be someone even more stubborn than Jaemin is. He’s guessing he’ll have to engage in a conversation with her someday soon, but thinks today might not be that day.

When they drop Nari and Saerom off, Nari doesn’t bid Jaemin goodbye, even to Jeno, who she’s usually warm with even on her off days.

Jeno’s phone keeps on vibrating on the seat next to him as he drives, Ryujin’s name lighting up on his screen each time. The thought that Ryujin and the others are insistent on letting Jeno join them even outside the studio makes him smile, even if he isn’t the type to hang out outside often.

Jaemin wordlessly puts on a DVD the minute they arrive at Jaemin’s house. Jeno sees the opening credits that read _Gwomeul._ He remembers it being a movie Chaera and Bongju had liked, but one that he’d never really properly watched with them. 

He opens the refrigerator and sees he’s got two remaining bottles of Banana Milk left. Jaemin had advised him before to keep his own stock of food and drinks in the Na household in case Jeno has to sleep over. Jeno has never taken up that offer yet, but said _yes_ to keeping some food in Jaemin’s refrigerator, including his mom’s home-made kimchi and the abalones that their humble abalone porridge shop is famous for in Pyeongdae. It turns out that Jeno’s _eomeong_ had been a fan of the weekend drama that Jaemin starred in, and she liked him even if he only showed up for less than five minutes before getting killed off halfway into the drama’s run.

Jeno takes out the two cartons of Banana Milk and makes his way towards the living room. He offers one to Jaemin who quietly takes it. Jeno plops down on the couch just in time for a reptile-like monster to show up on Jaemin’s television screen. 

A bulb lights up in his head, thinking of what Nari mentioned once about Jaemin’s favorite movie. 

In the screen, one passerby is getting eaten to death by the reptile-like monster when Jeno asks if Jaemin’s in the mood for sukiyaki. Jaemin just quietly smiles at him, nodding as if he didn’t expect Jeno to offer in the first place. 

By the time the reptile-like monster dives down into the Han river, Jeno’s already texted Ryujin _I’m sorry. I can’t join you tonight. Have other plans._

They don’t make it past the halfway mark of _Gwomeul_ in lieu of Jeno fulfilling his promise of cooking _sukiyaki_ for Jaemin. 

Jeno watches Jaemin take out a new hot plate from one of his kitchen cabinets. Minjung’s bought a hot plate for the exact same reason of wanting to grill _sukiyaki_ inside the comfort of their own home. “You don’t use it often?”

Jaemin shakes his head. “It’s from the latest line that _abeoji_ has been selling.” 

Jeno vaguely remembers Kwangsoo mentioning something about the Nas co-running a small-time kitchen appliances business. Jaemin’s dad is the company’s star salesman and his mom one of their highly esteemed product developers.

“I can ask him to give you a discount coupon if you want to purchase one for your sister,” Jaemin says with a smile, catching Jeno staring far too long at the hot plate. 

Jeno blushes but accepts it anyway. He’s planning to gift Minjung this, and there’s literally nothing more perfect than this, he thinks.

Jeno gulps nervously as he starts grilling _sukiyaki_ cuts of beef, and chunkier, fattier slices of pork and the earthy Portobello mushrooms Jaemin hands him from across the living room table. Jeno pales in comparison to the rest of the Lee clan when it comes to cooking, but it’s also what motivates him to learn, even the simplest ones such as grilling _sukiyaki_.

“Do you cook with your sister often?” Jeno looks up to see Jaemin still adamantly watching the food brown, posture still straight but shoulders somehow slightly deflated from how they normally are. 

“Yes,” Jeno replies, looking back at the almost well-done chunks of food. “She jokes about me burning the house down so she’s always watching my every move. Down to the last crackle of the cooking oil on a pan, until I turn off the stove.”

Jaemin laughs, picking up the barbeque tongs to clamp the cooked bits of meat to transfer them on the nearby plate. He offers one to Jeno. Jeno accepts it in a heartbeat, already feeling the hunger kick in. 

“Gotta feed the chef first,” Jaemin says before tasting the meat for himself. “Make sure you get to eat before burning my house down.”

They eat their simple meal comfortably, sharing stories in between chews, mostly from Jeno’s humble cooking beginnings under the combined tutelage of the Lee women. At some point, Jaemin gets up and returns with a pack of beer, handing one out to Jeno.

“I know this is no Banana Milk and I promise I’ll buy you one—” Jaemin opens his own can, savoring the smell of it. “But this will have to do for now.”

“There’s no need,” Jeno assures him as he cracks his own can open. “The twins love it so Minjung always keeps lots of stock of it at home.”

“I’m assuming you saw your sister’s twins grow up,” Jaemin says and cushions his cheek on his hand. “Have you always lived with them since you moved to Incheon?”

“No.” He takes a long draught of his beer, icy coldness washing down his throat. “I moved back when I was eighteen. But before that, I was living somewhere else.”

Jaemin eyes him curiously albeit a little bit drowsily as if asking _So where?_

The answer to Jaemin’s unsaid question gets stuck in Jeno’s throat before it finally makes its way out, driven by the earnest gaze in Jaemin’s eyes and the sensation of the beer in his belly. 

“Cheongdam.” Jeno sets his can down on the table, reaching for one of the remaining cubes of pork to eat. “One of the dorms for trainees signed to SM Entertainment.”

“Oh.”

Jeno doesn’t need to look up to see the spark of interest in the actor’s face. He keeps his head down and chews on his meat quietly. “You don’t sound so surprised,” Jeno tries to comment casually.

“I tried asking Kwangsoo hyung but he was very vague and only told me you’d had your fair share of the spotlight before.”

“Technically, that’s not true,” Jeno says. _My career was over before it even began_ is what he almost adds but chooses not to, thinking some things are better left unsaid.

“Does this mean you sing too?”

Jeno shakes his head in response, somehow amused at the question from the other. It almost makes him chuckle. “They’ve taught me how to rap but it’s the dancing that I loved the most.” 

“Still love.”

Jeno looks up at that, sees the soft expression on Jaemin’s face under the low lighting of his living room.

“You still love dancing,” Jaemin says, not as a question but as a statement of fact.

Jeno purses his lip in thought before giving a slight nod. “I still do.”

“I need to see you properly dance someday,” Jaemin says, lips jutted right before downing the rest of his beer. Jeno’s lips curl upwards, feeling a little shy as he says “It’s not a big deal.”

“Oh, but it is,” the actor exclaims. “You’re tirelessly committed to it, even during weeks of packed schedules.” Jaemin flicks his can, watching it go down on the wooden surface of the table. “We love what we love, as long as we are allowed to do it. I’m lucky to be doing what I love.” There’s a serene smile on the actor’s lips. It’s mesmerizing, and Jeno can’t look away. “I’m glad you’re doing what you love too. I’m glad you’re still dancing.”

Jeno nods, for a lack of a better response. He could never deny something he genuinely loves.

“Nari likes it too,” Jaemin starts and Jeno’s afraid that this whole ‘distract Jaemin’ thing will become useless once it takes this direction. “That’s why she’s extra taken with you, I think. Wouldn’t stop talking about you even in front of Saerom.”

Jeno feels his cheeks warm, looking away before he gets caught in Jaemin’s overwhelming gaze.

“I think it’s nice that she knows what she likes this early.” Jeno reaches for a new can of beer, cracking it open. “It’s nice that you’re both supportive of her love for it.” It makes Jeno think of his _halmang_ again, his parents and even Minjung, who wordlessly engulfed him in an embrace and offered him Banana Milk when Jeno showed up at her doorstep, packed bags and dreams in tow.

“But is it ever enough?”

Jeno looks up at the other, already looking straight past Jeno. Jeno reaches out for a new can of beer, cracks it open and slides it towards Jaemin. “It is.”

Jaemin seems to perk up a little at that, accepting the drink and taking a swig of it. “We’ve been talking about transferring Nari to another school, but that would mean her starting over and I don’t know—” The vulnerable look in Jaemin’s face cracks something inside Jeno. “I just find it unfair that she has to go through something like this. That she’d have to start over just because of people around her, because of circumstances that are entirely outside her control. Outside my control.”

 _I know,_ Jeno almost says. Suddenly, the tears of an eighteen-year-old Jeno bubble up in his memory. The tears for a dream he’d have to postpone until further notice, the tears for someone he thought would keep holding his hand until whenever. 

“Nari deserves better,” Jaemin mumbles quietly. “No one’s booking me for anything. I don’t know if I can even call myself an actor at this point. I feel so useless.”

“You’re right,” Jeno finally says. Jaemin squints his eyes at him, looking a little hurt. “About Nari deserving better.” He sets his can down, feeling soberer than ever. “That’s why you’re considering transferring her.”

Jaemin’s intently listening and honestly, Jeno feels slightly hypocritical. But the beer in his mouth tastes like courage. He’s used to keeping things to himself, but he’s more than merely a colleague tonight. Right now, he’s Jaemin’s friend, and he knows Jaeminhas to hear this.

“But it’s not your fault.” The words taste foreign in his tongue. “An ending like this can only mean a better beginning of something else.”

Jaemin looks at him carefully and if not for the beer, Jeno might squirm. But he feels like it has to be said so he says it, “And you being rejected earlier, well, like I said, maybe that just wasn’t for you.”

“If it isn’t, then what is, then? What _is_ for me, Jeno?” Jaemin juts his lip out in defiance. “I’m too young to play a teacher, too old to play a student. Too pretty for your rough guy character but not pretty enough to score the second male lead role.”

“I’m really not asking for much,” whispers Jaemin with a combination of fight and frustration in his face that is probably fueled by the alcohol. “Just a reason to keep believing I’m still in the right industry. But if I’m rejected over and over, then maybe I should just take the hint and—” the actor’s lip quivers as if he doesn’t want to continue. “Find something else to do.”

The way he says it, almost trailing into defeated silence by the end, sends the most sobering punch to Jeno’s gut.

 _Do you want to go back? You could go back, Jeno,_ asked Minjung after having fully realized that Jeno had come to terms with the fact that there’s nothing left for him in Seoul to hang onto. But the Jeno then was stubborn, and didn’t want the sympathy of everyone back home. He remembers shaking his head resolutely, promising to himself he’ll just have to look for another dream. _And, well_ —

“You just haven’t found it yet,” Jeno replies simply. “The perfect project for you.” He sits up properly hoping he gets his message through, that Jaemin isn’t alone in this, that Jeno will go through this with him every step of the way. “That means we have to keep looking.”

Jeno steels the other with his gaze, as he asks, “Can you see yourself doing something else?”

Jaemin shakes his head, slowly but surely. There’s a slight twinge of jealousy in Jeno’s part on how easily Jaemin responded but he compartmentalizes it, a skill he thinks he’s beginning to be slightly better at. He is Jaemin’s manager now. Jeno’s not sure until when, but for now, he _is._ The least Jeno could offer is affirmation, assurance.

“You can never cross the ocean until you dare to lose sight of the shore.” It’s his _halmang’s_ favorite saying. Jeno had tucked it with him and his dreams when he left Jeju for Seoul. The ocean turned out to be too vast for him but that doesn’t mean everyone must suffer the same fate as him.

“She must be great,” says Jaemin, who's looking at him with a gaze that Jeno could mistake as awestruck, relieved and thankful all at the same time. “Does she have specific pointers for casting calls too?” Somehow the light in his eyes is back. It’s dim, but it’s there. “Like how to nail the role of a purple lizard for an animated film?”

They both laugh. Suddenly, the air in the room feels lighter than it was earlier. Jeno finds himself raising his can of beer, hoping he’d somehow got through to Jaemin. The other clinks his own can against Jeno’s, eyes twinkling with something akin to hope as he says “Let’s keep looking, then.”

“Manager-nim,” a voice calls out as the sunlight slowly seeps his vision.

Jeno feels his throat dried up, registering Nari’s silhouette in front of him, hands stretched out with a small piece of paper.

When he takes it, she runs. Jeno’s head throbs as he sits up and properly processes the paper in his hands. _Sorry_ is haphazardly written next to a box drawing that somehow resembles that of a—

“Banana milk,” Saerom finishes as she offers Jeno a glass of water which he accepts. “She asked me what would make someone accept her apology better, and I said she’d have to give that someone something they like.”

Jeno smiles, but is a little confused at the gesture. “She didn’t say anything to me.”

“I think that’s exactly why,” says Saerom, lips curved into a smile, heading back to the stove to stir a pot that smells like his _halmang_ ’s _haegukjang_. “You should stay for breakfast, Jeno—“ her hands pause from stirring to turn to Jeno who’s standing up to place back the glass of water at the sink. “Just leave it there. I can call you Jeno, right?”

He nods, and is rewarded by a disarming smile that he feels he didn’t earn because clearly he’s an outsider. He’s suddenly reminded that it’s Saturday and he has to go back home and sober up before going to the dance studio. He turns on the faucet to wash his hands, yearning with the urge to splatter some onto his face so he can figure out why Saerom’s presence alienates him more than usual.

“I asked him if I should cook more in case you stayed over.” Her voice sounds so casual, but Jeno’s cheeks flush despite himself, feeling somewhat caught, even if he’s sure there’s nothing to catch. “But he didn’t reply so I went along and decided for myself.”

Saerom continues to make small talk. Jeno’s really grateful for it. But then he sees the four plates on the table, two of which with bowls next to them. The sight makes him feel smaller, even more intrusive in a household that he isn’t a part of.

“I have to go,” he croaks out as he starts to make his way to the door to put on his shoes.

“Are you sure?” Saerom asks, eerily sounding as if she turned off the stove to follow Jeno out the door.

He doesn’t let her, his hand already on the knob turning it even as he hears footsteps nearing.

  
  
  
  


JQ Lee **✔**

@cocoonedseoul

Still losing my mind over @JohnnySeo’s jolliness in Korean during the standing ovation for #SeoulisBurning at #Cannes2020! I’m also reeling from how my bb’s (aka rising prodigy @JisungPark) first words on-mic were “So we’re getting hotpot after this?” 😭

[VIDEO: 5-minute standing ovation for Seoul is Burning. Cannes crowd clapping for the film’s director, Johnny Seo, and the cast and crew in attendance for the film’s Cannes premiere at the Lumiere Theater.]

12:51 PM • 05/20/2020 • Twitter Web App

 **205** Retweets **2002** Likes

**bread enthusiast** @seojyans • 10m

Replying to @cocoonedseoul

We love our bread, we love our butter, but most of all, we love the future oscar winner for best director, aka only man ever, @JohnnySeo 🤗

**#Johlony Assemble!** @mrgoldensuh • 6m

Replying to @cocoonedseoul

FEED THE MAKNAE. Normalize hotpot in france! 

**nana makes the world go round ♡** @ilovejaemina • 2m

Replying to @cocoonedseoul

It warms my heart that Jaemin is a part of something so special and monumental. Will support you as you keep on reaching for the stars, actor Na! 😭💛

  
  
  
  
  


_Cannes, present day_

Jeno glides through the sea of journalists and film folk entering the press foyer, situated outside the Lumiere Auditorium within the _Palais des Festivals et des Congrès_. 

The five-minute standing ovation earlier keeps the crowd in a constant buzz and Jeno can’t help but feel proud, being associated with the talents that made this crowd stand and cheer for five minutes straight.

“There you are,” Joohyun says as he approaches her, handing him a water bottle. “Panel is starting in three minutes and I think someone can’t seem to stay still without you in the room.” 

Jeno follows the direction of her gaze to the other side of the stage, and he spots Jaemin who meets his eyes instantly. 

Jeno raises his hand to give the actor a thumbs up. He’s rewarded by one of Jaemin’s dazzling smiles. He briefly hears a sigh from Joohyun but she says nothing further as they wait for the press conference to start. Once the moderator introduces Seo kamdongnim, the clapping commences for all the panel members until the entrance and introduction of the last cast member to enter, Donghyuck who waltzes into the stage with a cheerful disposition tailored specifically for formal events like these.

The first questions are mostly for Seo kamdongnim on his production design choices and some screenplay concerns that he’s ironed out with _Seoul is Burning_ ’s screenplay writer Kim Doyoung.

Jeno first met Doyoung during filming and is immediately taken with the older’s command of the script, working in sync with Seo kamdongnim especially for scenes that need to be changed from how they’re originally supposed to go as per Seo kamdongnim’s storyboard. Jaemin has whispered to him once, while on break on set, that they’re rumored to be former university sweethearts who wanted to conquer the film industry together, as director and writer, respectively. Things apparently didn’t go as planned for them but they somehow set differences aside to make _Seoul is Burning_ happen.

Jaemin and the rest of the cast members also get a chance to answer acting-related queries in between the directorial questions thrown at Seo kamdongnim. Jeno particularly notes the look of unadulterated happiness on Jaemin’s face when a press member praises him, remarking that Jaemin has been indelible as the film’s severely broken, but still courageous antihero, the perfect foil to the charismatic hero played by awards season favorite, Do Kyungsoo. Some comments were even thrown in about Jaemin possibly being nominated in the festivals to come, which Jaemin accepts playfully, growing more confident as he answers the press members in English.

The panel seems to fly by smoothly, until one of the press members asks the controversial question that’s been plaguing everyone’s minds, especially after the celebrated Cannes premiere of Director Nakamoto Yuta’s _Awaken,_ which serves as his return to international cinema after a 3-year hiatus.

The entire room goes eerily quiet as the press member asks, “Would you say that it’s South Korean cinema’s year once again here in Cannes all the way until the Academy Awards next year? Are we talking to the second South Korean Best Picture winner, Mr. Seo?”

Seo kamdongnim eases into a smile, showing no hint of being bothered for being asked such a loaded question, obviously meant to bait him into making a tabloid fodder answer.

The twenty-nine-year-old auteur’s smile grows wider when he says, “I’m truly humbled you’re regarding our film as such but I think it’s anyone’s year, frankly.” The press member who asked the question nods, seemingly pleased with how the director is answering his question. “My dear friend Mr. Nakamoto Yuta has returned in perfect form and I think is more than ready to sweep the rest of the international film community off their feet.” He mentions the other films under the _Competition_ category and also hypes up other films part of the _Un Certain Regard_ category _._

There’s _ahhs_ and _oohhs_ in the audience until Seo kamdongnim finishes his response smoothly with, “It’s an honor for our film to be amongst other gems from filmmakers I’ve respected and revered for most of my career. So, really, all of us here—“ He gestures to the entire cast beside him in a sweeping motion. “—are just glad to have imparted something with you all. Hopefully, the rest of the world will feel the same way. Thank you, let’s all look forward to another great year of cinema.”

  
  
  
  


Early dinner is at a bistro nestled on the rocky cove of Ile Sainte-Marguerite island. It’s a private boat ride away from the pontoon-lined _Boulevard de la Croisette_ from where the _Palais_ lies. 

The representatives from N21, _Seoul is Burning_ ’s international distributor, are the ones who have offered to treat the cast and crew, still clearly reeling from the warm reception of the film earlier. Jaemin’s sitting beside Kyungsoo, Seo kamdongnim, Doyoung and the other cast members while Jeno and the managers disperse across the nearby tables. 

Jeno decides to sit on the table nearest to the edge of the bistro, admiring the sun trying to prise the last of its amber limbs over the colorful hotel across the _Croisette._ The bistro is significantly quieter, a nice change of environment from the hecticness of the festival. He takes out his phone and tries to capture the painting-like view of the sunset at the bay. 

“Is this seat taken?”

Jeno looks up to the owner of the voice. 

Wong Kunhang is looking dapper, and business-ready, and very much out of place in a table that only has Jeno. He tries to look around the other tables, eyes scanning for the other producers on where they might be seated. 

The young producer must have sensed his question even before voicing it, and throws Jeno a dazzling smile as he says, “I don’t think they’ll miss me that much so I hope it’s alright to keep you company.”

“Sure,” Jeno says, just in time for the arrival of their entrées—all of which are completely foreign to him.

Kunhang is extra conversational, effortlessly naming the set of dishes on their table. He even mentions a bit of trivia about how the chef prepared their dishes, admitting to having eaten at this dreamy bistro before. When the meals for their main course arrive, including the bistro’s specialty pasta, Kunhang indulges him with more stories, some of his woes as a young producer in a fast-paced film industry, and some personal ones from his travels and encounters with people from different walks of life. He also tells Jeno of his sisters’ shenanigans and how they mostly treat Kunhang prior to having found boyfriends to travel to places with.

“Now, I’m just a last resort, for when their dates suddenly bail out due to some urgent work matter.” The pout in Kunhang’s voice is evident, reminding Jeno of someone whose voice he knows like the back of his hand. He trains his eyes to not wander, to learn to stop himself from looking at the other. 

“I heard you’ve got an older sister,” Kunhang notes, sipping from his glass of Chardonnay. He offers to pour some on Jeno’s glass which Jeno gladly accepts.

“Yes,” Jeno replies, taking a sip from his glass. He tastes grapes—the sweetness rich, with a hint of vanilla. “We don’t do much traveling though, apart from going back home to Jeju every once in a while.”

“Must be nice.” Kunhang leans back on his seat, swirling the glass in his hand, his gaze on Jeno warm and friendly before turning to look at the view. “Being born by the sea.”

“It is,” Jeno admits. He’s never stayed back home for more than two weeks for fear of getting too comfortable and never wanting to leave. Heck, it took him a long time before being brave enough to go home, even just for a while. But he does miss it, more than he’d like to admit.

“But Seoul’s been great to me, too.” Jeno’s not sure why he says it, not sure why his eyes suddenly dance towards the direction of a certain someone. The fairy lights overhead and all around them are lit up, a response to the beckoning pomegranate pink of the emerging night sky. They complement Jaemin’s tousled red hair, they complement his _everything_.

“There’s no other place for me, I think,” Jeno mumbles, stilling as a pair of eyes catch his. Jaemin’s eyebrows crease in thought, and Jeno doesn’t know what it means. He keeps looking though, for fear of the fragility of the moment. “I’m not sure if the Jeju then would compare to how Seoul is for me now.” 

_Because Jeju doesn’t have you_ is what Jeno wants to say, not to Kunhang, but to Jaemin, who’s comfortably seated amongst the chattering people around him. He sees the other open his mouth before closing again into a tight-lipped smile. Jeno’s heart gets stuck in his throat, still looking at the other.

Kunhang looks like he’s going to follow his line of sight but he doesn’t and instead chuckles to himself. 

“Well, Seoul is nice and charming, and _familiar_ , yes but—” Kunhang puts his glass down, clicking his tongue “—I think you just need to see other places too.”

Jeno’s looking at Kunhang again now, who has somehow inched closer, elbows resting on the table to weave his fingers together, propping his chin on them. 

“What do you say, Jeno?”

“Hm?”

“Would you consider seeing other places too?”

The gentle night breeze tickles his skin, easing the tension from a seemingly harmless question that somehow feels weighted. 

“It doesn’t have to be soon,” Kunhang placates, looking even more princely with every second. “I just hope you’ll consider it.”

Jeno finds himself nodding, a response easily rewarded with Kunhang’s smile. When Kunhang goes for a bite of the grilled lamb on his plate, Jeno chances a look at Jaemin.

He’s not looking at them anymore.

Jeno wakes up to a Jaemin-free morning.

There’s a piece of paper tucked by the lamp on Jeno’s bedside that reads _Going out for a stroll. See you at La Prom later. - Nana_

The written note feels impersonal, detached, similar to the kind of quietness that filled their shared bedroom the night before as they got back from Cannes. Jeno, however, brushes the thought aside, opens LINE and sends Jaemin a short _Enjoy your stroll. See you later!_

Breakfast is a warm cup of earl grey tea and two slices of reheated _socca_ that the house’s owner gave them last night. The morning breezes by with Jeno deciding to go outside and experience a morning at Cours Saleya market which is just a few blocks from the house they’re staying in.

Unlike from the earlier festivals, the cast and crew members have dispersed in terms of accommodation. Seo kamdongnim, Kyungsoo, Woohee and most of the other non-Dreaming Ent staff chose to stay in one of the fancier hotels facing the sea, while he, Jaemin, Jisung, Renjun and unsurprisingly, Donghyuck, went for one of the quieter houses blocks away from the active boulevard. The house owner tells Jeno that Jisung, Renjun and Donghyuck went museum-hopping, which makes Jeno cackle. Donghyuck must be really turning in his A-game now, Jeno thinks, with the actor sticking close to Renjun as much as possible, even with the presence of Jisung.

Excitement fills Jeno’s senses as he starts roaming the Cours Saleya market, pleasantly assaulted with varying scents of fresh fruits and baked pastries.

Spending too much is not on Jeno’s list of agendas for the day, knowing only the basic French terms that don’t even include those needed in purchasing things. Luckily for him however, a vendor, kindly smiles at him, handing him two slices of _pissaladi_ è _re_. When he instinctively backs away to raise his hands gesturing that he doesn’t have enough cash with him—which is partly true—the woman only shakes her head and gently reaches for his hands to open them and accept her offer.

Afraid of offending anyone, he grins as he mumbles a _Thank you_ in hopefully passable French _,_ making a show of taking a small bite of the delicious-smelling _pissaladi_ _è_ _re_ before walking away from her stall.

He enjoys his free snack in silence, as he somehow finds himself heading towards _Promenade du Paillon_ where kids are merrily running around the reflective fountains in the middle of the park.

Jeno watches the kids shriek in joy as the jet-dotted pavement shoots mountains of water into the air that will most certainly get one wet the moment they walk towards or even near the area. He feels as if this would be a prettier sight later during the day with the sun setting, or even at night where lights from all around may reflect into the fountains of water.

His eyes find themselves looking ahead, his heart stopping for a moment as a familiar figure comes into view. Jeno’s not wearing his glasses with the thicker lens however, so he slowly inches closer to the fountains to get a clearer view of the figure. He’s already just a few steps from the pavement of fountains when a hand holds him back just enough for the sudden shooting water to miss him.

“Hey,” Kunhang says, slowly letting go. “The water almost got you.”

Jeno laughs, feeling slightly silly of how he must look from an outsider’s point of view. “Thanks.” He raises the other slice of _pissaladi_ _è_ _re_ to the other.

Kunhang grins as he says, “Thank you but I actually just ate a bunch of these on my way here.” 

_On my way to you_ is what Jeno reads between the lines. Jeno feels himself blush at the other possibly talking to the vendor earlier, seconds before Jeno approached her. It urges Jeno more to give Kunhang his other slice. “Take it,” he starts. “It’s your prize for saving me just now.”

The laugh Kunhang lets out is melodious, almost as melodious as Jaemin’s, but in a different way.

“If you say so,” Kunhang says in singsong, accepting the other slice of pissaladière. They start walking away from the fountains, enjoying the lively chatter around them. Jeno lets the older lead him, trusting the other’s knowledge of navigating around the city. 

“I’m guessing we need the energy for our mini-tour of Nice. Oh, that reminds me—” The older stops walking, turning on his heels to face Jeno. He hands him a paper bag. 

Jeno accepts it and opens it, the sweet smell of croissant permeating the immediate air around him.

“I bought it from the pâtisserie from across the hotel we’re staying in Paris,” the elder pipes, voice almost dripping with honey. “You should eat it while it’s still warm.”

“I should.” Jeno takes the bag and smiles, resumes walking as Kunhang does the same. “So, this is original to Paris, isn’t it?” 

“Austria, actually,” Kunhang says as he takes another bite of his pissaladière, steps slowed down to somehow match Jeno’s. “It was August Zang who was formerly an artillery officer who opened _La Boulangerie Viennoise_ offering _viennoiserie,_ which literally translates to _breakfast pastry_.”

Jeno smiles, marveling at Kunhang walking like a breathing travel book.

“Like I said,” Kunhang starts, eyes flickering with something akin to hope. “Other places deserve to be explored too.”

Jeno looks away humming, idly making a move to walk ahead of the other. Kunhang follows him. “Why were you about to cross the fountains by the way?”

“I think I just saw someone.” His eyes dart back towards the other side of the pavement, unsure of what he thought he might see. He’s not surprised that there’s nothing but kids and adults who are enjoying the heat of the sun with the occasional sprinkle of water from the fountains. Expectation tastes bland on his tongue. It tastes of hopes and feelings that never aged with grace.

Jeno sighs. “Nevermind.”

The air is humid on Jeno’s skin as they walk towards one of the stops of the Nice tour bus along the _Promenade de Anglais_.

The fairly busy _Promenade,_ or _La Prom_ as locals like to call it, stretches along the Mediterranean shoreline, and is somewhat similar to the one in Cannes, with hotels and colorful buildings lining up one side and the vast turquoise sea on the other side. _La Prom_ however is relatively quieter than the acclaimed film fest capital of France.

Kunhang gets a call and is kept busy so Jeno boards the bus first. He walks towards the farthest seat on the upper deck, plops down and starts scrolling through his camera roll for his recently taken photos of the sparkling waters with the matching infamous blue chairs, parasols and even the blue bikes on its pebbly shores.

A LINE notification pops up on top of his screen. It’s a message from Jongin that reads _Bonjour, Jeno😄 I know you’re occupied at the moment but SM sent me the sample today! Hope you can listen to it whenever you get the time. Au revoir!!!☺️_

He shoots back a short _Thank you, hyung! Will listen to it and let u know if I come up with anything_ and downloads the attached file, plugging his earphones into his phone thereafter.

“So, how’d you do without me?”

Jeno’s fingers halt their movement. He looks up on instinct, knowing whom the voice belongs to. His entire being—a moth drawn towards the flame that is Jaemin, who has smoothly sat on the empty seat beside Jeno’s.

“Fine,” Jeno replies hoping it sounds truer than it does in his head. It’s only been a few hours away from him but Jeno knows he’s missed Jaemin. Must be the terrible helpless infatuation at work again, Jeno thinks. He brushes it aside and tucks his earphones into his pocket.

He opens the paper bag on his lap, making the paper bag a makeshift napkin to bring out the last remaining croissant. “Have a taste of Paris, Jaemin-ah,” offers Jeno.

Jaemin scoffs but takes a bite anyways. Their fingers briefly touch for only a moment but it spreads like wildfire in Jeno’s belly. 

“Not bad,” Jaemin says after swallowing down dramatically.

“Of course, it isn’t,” says Kunhang who seats himself on the aisle seat in front of them. “ _C'est très bon,_ as the French like to say.”

Jaemin makes an unamused expression which Kunhang doesn’t catch, already beaming at Jeno as he says “Ready to have a mini-tour of the largest city on the _Côte d'Azur?_ ”

Jeno beams back as they all forego the use of the issued headphones with the default voice of their little tour. Instead, he and surprisingly, Jaemin, too, bask in the sunlight of Nice as Kunhang effortlessly tells them of the most interesting information and sage-like tales of their tour bus’ stops: from the _La Prom_ , to the quiet fishing village of _Villefrenche_ , all the way to _Lycée Masséna_ , which is just a couple of minutes away from _Vielle Vielle_ or Old Nice, wherein Jaemin and the rest of the cast will be shooting for a spread on Cine21.

At some point, Jaemin asks Kunhang to take a photo of him and Jeno, the actor’s arm easily finding its way to drape itself onto Jeno’s shoulder. Jeno freezes in place momentarily, blushing as he finds Jaemin dazzling him with a smile that rivals the beauty of the French Riviera. It’s a smile that makes him feel as warm as the thought of the vast blue sea back home in Jeju. Jeno deems it unfair, how Jaemin fares with the most beautiful sights that Jeno’s experienced with his own eyes. But the other’s smile, along with everything that is Jaemin, are things that he knows he has to learn to let go of, and only let linger in bits at the back of his mind. Jeno knows that much.

But they’re only approaching the end of May, so Jeno still has five months left to tell Jaemin of his nearing departure, five months to seamlessly turn over everything related to Jaemin’s career to the next manager, and five months to learn detaching from his unrequited love that seems too difficult to move on from.

He’s left things once. He can do it again.

So even if Jaemin’s hand never leaves its place for the rest of the ride, Jeno doesn’t mind. He doesn’t dare move away.

For now, he lets himself have _this_.

Lunch is at a chic restaurant tucked away in the heart of Old Nice.

They all forego the lush interior of the restaurant—with the impressionist paintings decorating its ceilings—for the warm, and slightly buzzing-with-life tables outside the establishment.

Kunhang orders for them in French but when the waiter speaks to them in English, he smoothly shifts to English instead.

As they wait for their orders, Kunhang and Jaemin surprisingly fall into easy conversation. Jeno takes it as his cue to peek on his phone and sees messages from Renjun and Donghyuck about them having lunch in Old Nice as well, but somewhere nearer Cours Saleya.

Lunch passes by with Kunhang sharing Parisian sights to see with the actor as they feast on the léscargot and the rib fillet steak that is truly too tender and one-of-a-kind. At one point, Kunhang brings up the Parisian Ballet, making Jeno perk slightly from his seat. Jaemin seems to have noticed this, and pipes about Jeno being a fan of Don Quixote. Kunhang raises his eyebrow, seemingly taking it in and then asks Jeno if he ever saw the show back in Seoul. Jeno shakes his head, but it’s Jaemin who verbalizes it with, “He’s always wanted to, though. Maybe, someday we’ll have the chance to.” 

A lump forms in Jeno’s throat at that, but he promptly washes it down with the lemonade that tastes a little too sour for his liking.

Halfway into their meal, the restaurant owner also personally delivers to them a bottle of red wine, saying it is on the house and that they are honored that an internationally acclaimed actor has graced their presence.

Jaemin blushes at that and redirects the attention to Kunhang, who he says is one of the youngest and most talented producers in the business and is one of the people who made the film he starred in possible.

The owner then asks them about Jeno who might be, and is easily given a response by Kunhang, who says he’s Jaemin’s manager and a friend that Kunhang likes. Jeno must be only imagining the glint of amusement in Jaemin’s eyes.

When their dessert arrives, Jaemin smoothly slices a piece of the _tarte tatin_ and offers it to Jeno. Caught off-guard, Jeno takes it, but is delighted when Jaemin rewards him with a smile that puts the sun to shame.

Kunhang coughs slightly before sliding his glass of ginger of lemonade to Jeno, saying it tastes well after a slice of the _tarte tatin_. 

Jaemin beats Jeno to it, saying “Don’t mind if I do, then,” as he downs almost half of the glass. “Well, you aren’t wrong,” Jaemin then says, casually sliding the glass back to Jeno, offering for him to give it a taste.

All their eyes are on Jeno. It’s unnerving, being under their combined scrutiny. He feels the bit of tension earlier from the tour bus seep back in the air, but he’s somewhat eased as the drink washes down his throat, smiling at them both.

The tension remains, albeit only subtly, throughout the Cine21 photoshoot in the afternoon.

Kunhang mostly keeps Jeno company, and continues to share facts about the lives of the artists behind the artworks on their museum stops for the shoot. Jaemin, however, finds time in between shoots and re-touches, to challenge whatever information Kunhang throws their—mostly Jeno’s—way.

Kunhang easily smiles everything away even when Jaemin outright notes how the young producer is too lucky to be too rich to have too much time on his hands to follow them even at work. The lights outside _Palais de la Prefecture_ bear witness to them as Kunhang replies with “I’m luckier I have the best company.”

“So, Jeno,” Renjun hums, swirling his shot glass full of whiskey. “Who’s winning?”

Jeno raises an eyebrow in response, inching forward, feeling as if he might have missed part of the question due to the raucous partying around them.

“Clearly, it’s Kunhang-ssi who knows France like the back of his hand.” Donghyuck finishes his sentence with a pop, already about to grab the bottle of whiskey for another shot. 

Renjun beats him to it, pouring whiskey into Donghyuck’s glass, sliding it with a dry chuckle. 

Donghyuck smiles at him hazily before downing the contents of his glass in one shot. “I won’t be surprised if Jeno here is completely taken with how _sexy_ Kunhang’s brain is, bloated with facts and trivia about places we wish we could all just fly to on a regular basis.”

“Ya,” Renjun counters. “Jaemin can definitely _out-France_ his _ass,”_ The lilt in his voice tells him he’s amused at his own crassness. “Just say the word, Jeno, and our boy will be a walking encyclopedia in France within a week!”

“Did anyone say France?”

They all straighten in attention to the newcomer who’s joined their cocktail table.

“Donghyuck-ssi, Renjun-ssi.” Kunhang flashes them with a smile before turning his gaze at Jeno, whose neck suddenly feels warm under the collar of his shirt. “Hey, Jeno.”

Jeno feels suddenly sober amid Donghyuck’s snickers and Renjun’s scoffs. He raises his glass in response, downing it one shot. 

Kunhang rewards him with his disarming smile as always.

“We were just talking about how Jeno here still can’t get enough of France.” Donghyuck takes Jeno’s glass as soon as he puts it down on the table. The actor is already slightly swaying as he pours whiskey into Jeno’s glass, sliding it to Kunhang. “Says he’d very much like to explore further, given the chance.”

“Oh,” Kunhang says, swirling the shot glass in his hands, still looking at Jeno. “Does he?”

“Don’t mind them, Kunhang hyung,” Jeno immediately says. “They’ve drank a month’s worth of booze tonight. I think it’s time to call it a night.”

“Don’t mind them, Kunhang hyung~” Donghyuck whines, perching his chin onto Renjun’s shoulder. It makes Renjun laugh but it makes Jeno flustered. 

Renjun supports the actor on his feet, hand protective on the other’s right shoulder, making Donghyuck smush his face all the way onto Renjun’s chest. “Hyuck-ah,” Renjun calls out softly, with no trace of annoyance. 

Donghyuck raises his head and settles on leaning on Renjun’s shoulder instead, still looking at Kunhang as if he’s about to say the most shameless thing in the world.

“Our boy deserves nothing but love,” Donghyuck drawls. “Are you ready to give it to him?”

“Jeno!” calls out a familiar voice.

Seungwan comes into view, staggering towards their table with labored breaths. “Jaemin’s asking for you.”

It’s Jeno’s cue. Minjung once said that Jeno’s always running to Jaemin’s beck and call like the puppies Jaemin claims to love. Ryujin had her fair share of insight on this subject too. But the concern on Seungwan’s face is all that matters. Jaemin is _all_ that matters.

“Where is he?”

“Puking his guts out,” Seungwan replies before gesturing for Jeno to follow her in the direction of the pub’s restrooms.

Jeno mumbles an _I’m sorry I have to go_ to the already drunk Donghyuck and Renjun and to Kunhang, too, whose eyes momentarily display a tinge of disappointment. When the elder nods and offers him a grin, Jeno takes it as his blessing to leave, and files through the crowd without looking back.

“You shouldn’t have drunk this much,” Jeno says while patting Jaemin’s back in soothing motions.

The blaring electronic music from outside barely penetrates the walls of the pub’s bathroom. Inside, it’s just the sounds of Jaemin emptying the contents of his stomach into the cream-colored toilet of the Irish pub that they will probably never visit again. The music changes into something softer as Jaemin props himself on the toilet in an attempt to stand up.

His wobbly knees almost fail him but Jeno holds him just in time. Jeno pulls down the toilet seat lid and helps Jaemin sit on it. Once the other is settled, Jeno is rewarded by a hazy smile. It’s terrible how it still knocks Jeno off his feet even under the flickering blue neon light of the restroom.

“Why’d you even drink?” Jeno asks as he reaches for the tissue dispenser. He tears some and opens the faucet, moistening a portion of the tissue. His other hand helps to hold Jaemin in place as he tries to wipe away the remnants of vomit on the actor’s cheek. “You don’t even like drinking.”

“I don’t hate it,” Jaemin manages to choke out, watching Jeno’s ministrations with eyes that seem like they’re a minute away from completely succumbing to sleep. Jeno sweeps the unkempt bangs from the other’s face, and doesn’t miss the sigh that leaves the other’s lips.

“But you hate the taste,” Jeno says, dabbing a dry tissue on the other’s face. Jaemin’s eyes are finally closed but the hums he makes suggest that he’s still awake somehow. Jeno’s reminded of his earlier years as the actor’s manager, how he would share tips on drinking but not overdoing it, since drinking does somehow come with the job. He remembers Jaemin hating almost every single drink Jeno’s introduced to him.

Jeno’s lips turn upwards at the thought as he asks, “Have you finally learned to like it?”

A hand stops Jeno’s dabbing around the corner of the other’s lips.

Jaemin rasps, “I learned it’s not too late to change my mind about things.”

Brown irises that seem to have sobered up pierce Jeno, keeping him in place, a deer caught in the headlights. A moment passes and the grip loosens with Jaemin taking hold of the tissue to do the wiping himself. The other’s eyes seem to follow Jeno’s wrist.

“Still, you should learn your tolerance if you plan on drinking this much from now on,” Jeno says as he turns his back around and washes his hands, not knowing what to do at the moment. The _I won’t be around for much longer to look after you_ lingers dangerously on the tip of his tongue.

Jaemin makes a move to stand up, defiantly saying “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much.”

Jeno swoops in anyways, moving the other’s arm over his shoulder. “I know.” He starts walking, supporting them both. “But you should let people take care of you, too.” His hand is on the doorknob, on the verge of turning it to open the door when a hand rests on top of his.

“You never wear it.”

 _Ah_ , Jeno thinks, the gears in his mind clicking in place. “I haven’t had it fixed yet. Maybe when we fly home.”

Jaemin puffs, idly tracing Jeno’s wrist with his fingers. “Should have just asked Minjung noona about the size.” Each trace is feather-like, but the sensation sends electricity through Jeno’s skin. “Couldn’t even do this one thing right.”

“No, Jaemin, it’s not—”

“Are you going back to Kunhang hyung?” Jaemin’s voice is low, it cuts deep in Jeno’s gut. Jaemin rests his fingers on top of Jeno’s hand and squeezes.

 _Don’t leave me_ is what Jeno reads in the other’s eyes before they look down, seemingly not wanting to let Jeno in further.

But the plea remains unsaid.

“No,” Jeno says, squeezing the other’s shoulder, propping him up so they can move better. “I’m not.”

When they get home, Jeno prepares the clothes for Jaemin to change into.

The walk home seems to have sobered Jaemin enough that the actor assures him he can still take a shower on his own. Jeno’s finger hovers on the play button of the attached sample from Jongin but his phone vibrates before he can press play.

Jeno sees it’s Donghyuck’s number. He briefly glances on the bathroom door which still remains closed, and hears the sound of water running meaning Jaemin’s not quite finished yet. He answers the call and puts it on loudspeaker.

“Jeno-ya,” a voice says. It sounds melodious, familiar, but surely doesn’t sound like Donghyuck’s.

“Yes?”

“Don Quixote.”

“Kunhang hyung?”

“Don Quixote by the Parisian Ballet.”

Jeno makes a sound of confusion.

“I have two tickets for tomorrow,” Kunhang chimes, sounding a little bit drunk, but Jeno’s not quite sure of what. “Watch it with me.”

Jeno feels a sudden weight in his lungs. Don Quixote has always been a dream. He’s always wanted to experience it with his own two eyes. But it’s too sudden, and it sounds like the elder is asking him out on a date. The last thing Jeno wants is to—

“Go with him,” Jaemin mouths, materializing in front of him somehow, sitting on his bed, face covered with the towel he’s drying his face with.

“Go see the ballet, Jeno,” Jaemin says once more, voice still small but insistent. This time his face is unobstructed, his lashes fanning beautifully against the moonlight filtering in from their bedroom window.

“Okay,” Jeno manages to breathe out. “I’ll go with you.”

Jeno misses the drunken cheers from the other side of the line, having been too focused on Jaemin who smiles at him warmly, just before lying down, and settling on his side, back turning away from Jeno.

“Good night and see you tomorrow, Jeno,” Kunhang chimes. 

Jeno says a soft _See you_ before ending the call, still burning holes onto Jaemin’s back.

“Jaemin,” Jeno starts, not quite sure what he wants to say but he clenches his fist tight anyways as he tries to formulate the words in his head. “Can I really go?”

There’s a gentle hum from Jaemin. “Of course, Jeno.”

The actor doesn’t face him, but the tone sounds deceivingly gentle. Jeno doesn’t like it one bit.

“Like I said,” Jaemin adds. “You’re allowed to have a life outside me.”

Jeno doesn’t know if he responds with anything, or for how long he remains staring at the back of the love of his life before he eventually lies on his side, mimicking Jaemin’s position, still looking at Jaemin’s back until sleep takes him.

It’s a quiet six-hour train ride from Nice to Paris.

In between admiring the scenery from outside, Jeno flies through all his unread messages from LINE, including distressed ones from Nari asking for his opinion regarding some parts of their upcoming summer recital performance. There’s even a whole lot of clips from Kwangsoo of Donghyuck totally getting smashed alongside Kunhang and Renjun as they take part in _paquitos_ on their apparent pub-hopping escapades from last night. 

He replies to everyone, even manages to send photos of Nice to his parents and his _halmang_ , while repetitively listening to the sample Jongin sent him—it’s deep house meets EDM—a lovely fusion of sounds that captures the kindred spirit of summer.

By the time Jeno’s already humming somewhat accurately to the sample’s infectious chorus, he receives consecutive notifications of Donghyuck’s messages from LINE saying _Hey, I’m still alive. And I have news. But don’t expect updates. Still smashed. See you tom._

He shoots a simple _Ok, sure.😊_ to the actor and sends Renjun an inquiring _Did you and Donghyuck get home safely last night?_ , which quickly earns him a response of _You mean, this morning,_ followed by rows of emojis all expressing the other manager’s exhaustion and the possible hangover from their wild pub crawl.

By transitivity, Jeno asks Jisung how he’s spending his last day in Nice prior to the awarding ceremony. Jisung simply sends him a photo of Renjun and Donghyuck in varying degrees of what seems to be _The Worst Hangover of The Decade_ , as later captioned by the maknae which he divulges to be penned by Donghyuck himself. Jisung then sends him a selca of him and Donghyuck throwing peace signs, looking all cozy with each other. Jeno softens at it, vaguely reminded that Donghyuck does like Jisung too, even if he wholeheartedly denies it and claims the kid is nothing but competition for the actor.

Almost everyone messages him back in the span of those six hours, except for Jaemin who doesn’t send him anything in response to his short message of _Left early for the train. Have fun today, Jaemin._

The sun wasn’t up yet as he left the house earlier. There’s a bittersweet twinge in his gut as he realizes he might come home to a sleeping Jaemin as well, with the travel back to Nice being as long as his train ride going from Nice to Paris.

He looks at the silver bracelet encircling his wrist, the lone charm on it dangling as he moves.

It’s a moon-shaped form that Jaemin said to be reminiscent of Jeno in general. The moon charm hangs on a bracelet that Jaemin gave to him as a birthday gift as soon as Jeno returned to work following his long Birthday weekend off, saying _Because you got moons for eyes, I thought I’d try gifting you one more._

It didn’t really make sense in Jeno’s head but the actor’s gaze was too warm then, catching Jeno off guard which Jeno deals with by avoiding the actor’s gaze for the entirety of the day, excluding the times he’s required to talk to the actor regarding work. The sights outside the train suddenly pale in comparison to the moon charm shining against the radiant sunlight.

At noon, Jeno steps off of the train into the bustling platform of Gare de Lyon and is immediately welcomed by a beaming Kunhang and his sister, Catherine Wong, who Jeno recognizes from Kunhang’s posts with her on his Instagram account. She shakes his hand and tells Jeno to call her Cathy noona.

  
  
  


Kunhang’s hand is warm on his back as the older man guides him towards the platform for the Paris Metro. Cathy smiles at him and explains to him in Korean how the Metro is the fastest way to get to Bastille, where they’ll be meeting an old friend of hers over lunch.

Lunch turns out to be a little falafel spot tucked north of the Place de la Bastille on Rue Daval.

Despite being the odd stranger out during lunch, it passes by with ease with Kunhang telling Jeno more facts about the Lebanese cuisine of the restaurant and other fascinating facts about Bastille in general. Even Cathy and her friend, Zhan Xiao, an actor whose film is also competing as part of Cannes’ Official Selection—who turns out to be one of the show buyers for the Don Quixote Ballet and is responsible for getting him and Kunhang tickets on the last minute—somehow make it a point to include Jeno in their conversations as well. The actor grins as Jeno thanks him for the opportunity of a lifetime.

There’s a funny feeling in Jeno’s chest as he notes how eventful his last months are as Jaemin’s manager, his last months in this world that took him to places he never dared to dream of flying to, experiencing things he might not ever be given the chance to experience again 

Halfway into their lunch, Jeno manages to take a glimpse on his phone, almost expecting a notification from someone he hasn’t heard from all day when Kunhang says “Nice bracelet. Who’s it from? If I may ask.”

“Jaemin,” Jeno replies instantly, not missing the knowing look that flashes by Kunhang’s eyes. It’s gone after a moment, replaced with the usual charming smile on the elder when he comments “He seems to know you best, huh?”

Before Jeno could even fully register the elder’s words, Cathy and Zhan Xiao start singing praises about their respective desserts and just like that Jeno lets it go. 

After lunch, they all set off for a leisurely walk along Promenade Plantée. They use the staircase at 90 Avenue Daumesnil to reach the platform walk famous for being the world’s original High Line elevated park, as per Kunhang. Cathy and Zhan Xiao walk ahead of them in faster strides, even taking photos and video clips of them against the varying maples and greeneries of the secret garden. Jeno manages to keep photos as a keepsake too, with Kunhang offering to take them, gently urging Jeno to pose beside the sculptures and archways, and even the clearly recently made buildings that let the path of Promenade pass through them. Jeno takes some photos for Kunhang too and even takes one with him as they reach the end of the Promenade.

The sun is still up and merry as they ride the boat cruise along the Seine river. The boat ride starts from _Pont de l’Alma_ traveling up the Seine towards Notre Dame de Paris, passing by the Louvre, and the infamous _Pont des Arts_ near it, with its famous love locks. 

Cathy suggests for Kunhang and him to visit it later which Kunhang immediately shuts it down coolly. Jeno briefly sees the tips of elder’s ears redden as he snaps a photo of the Love Lock Bridge and sends it to Nari who immediately replies with _Is appa there with you?_

Jeno feels a heavy weight in his heart as he replies with a short _No. We’re not together at the moment._

She quickly sends him a _Tsk, I thought so. Enjoy the rest of Paris(???) then, manager-nim! ^_^_

They pass a few more landmarks including the Town Hall and then the Conciergerie, before their boat turns around near the Arab World Institute. They’re then met with a more intimate view of the majestic Cathedral of Notre Dame before the cruise continues alongside the Musée d’Orsay and the National Assembly, all the way towards the Eiffel Tower.

As the others all fawn over the famous landmark from behind their own phones, Jeno raises his wrist with the bracelet with the Eiffel in the background and takes a photo of it. As if on autopilot, Jeno sends it to Jaemin right away, locks his phone and sees Kunhang watching him with a wary smile. Jeno feels caught for some reason but he smiles back.

Kunhang continues to be the perfect tour guide until the very end of their one-hour cruise, entertaining Jeno with all the interesting facts he knows of Paris’ most famous landmarks and bridges.

As they step off the boat, Jeno whispers a small _Seine is beautiful. Thank you, Kunhang-ssi._ A brilliant smile blooms on the elder’s lips before guiding Jeno and the others back to the cobblestone streets of the city.

The Parisian ballet is nothing like Jeno’s seen before.

Right from the opening solos, Jeno’s heart soars with the dancers’ effortless jumps and turns, and those heart-stopping moments that make it seem like they’re suspended on air. Even after having watched numerous interpretations of Don Quixote on the small screen of his phone, and its projection on the white walls of one of the rooms at Incheon Dance Company’s building, Jeno feels his breath constantly taken away.

The biggest smile finds its way to his lips as the young performers dance _en pointe_ as cupids on the second act of the production. There’s a constant electric energy in the air, with the members of the corps amplifying the scenes to greater heights. Jeno’s reminded of how Jongin emphasized the importance of the ensemble as a whole. Even if he isn’t part of the production, the thought makes Jeno feel proud, having known firsthand what it feels like to be a part of a whole, a part of something that feels so seamlessly beautiful from start to finish.

When the flower marsh transitions to the anticipated _pas de deux_ of Kitri and Basilio in the third act, Jeno feels his heart almost leap off his chest. Jeno’s well aware he might not ever be as technically proficient as them, with the ballet only making up almost 30% of IDC’s choreography profile but it doesn’t make him feel any less hopeful that he’ll be able to dance as seemingly effortlessly freely as them. To _fly as freely_ as them.

 _“You dance like it’s the only language you know.”_ Jaemin’s words come flooding into his mind, the perfect words to describe the spectacle that is unfolding right before his very eyes.

At the end of the thirty-two or so _fouettes_ of the female dancer who’s playing Kitri, Jeno feels his hands clench in _want._ Watching it is one thing, sure, but after tonight, Jeno’s afraid that that is no longer enough.

He thinks that perhaps, dancing really might be the ocean he’s willing to drown in, the language that he wants to speak for the rest of his life.

“That was something magical, right?”

Jeno couldn’t agree more, the entire production playing like a dream sequence inside his head even as they leave the Opera Bastille and step outside into the waiting cold wind of the city.

He feels his phone vibrate, fingers quick to swipe to read the message. It’s a message from the very person who he’s been wanting to hear from since earlier. It’s a plain _Hope you enjoyed the ballet._

Jeno’s thinking of what to reply when another message comes in.

_Wished I could have enjoyed it with you._

He wants to chastise himself immediately after almost hitting _Call_ , thinking how there’s one person he’d very much like to talk to right now. That one person who talks about what he loves to do to Jeno just as much as Jeno does to him. And here said person is saying things to him that _of course_ , he might not mean.

“Jeno?” Kunhang calls out, bringing back Jeno to the present moment. The elder had been the sweetest the entire day, up until after the show’s curtain call, during which Jeno’s heart was hammering all too wildly in his chest.

But Kunhang isn’t Jaemin.

“You sure you can’t stay longer for dinner?” The elder smiles at him, saccharine sweet but almost resigned. He’d already asked Jeno to have dinner with him as the troops took their bow on stage during the curtain call. Jeno had been quick to decline.

He can join the elder for dinner but by doing so means he’ll miss the last train to Nice, which he absolutely cannot miss if he wants to be back at Nice by sunrise. Jeno’s had enough Parisian air already. Jaemin’s call time for the Cannes Closing Ceremony is more important. Jaemin is _always_ more important. _Because_ —

“I have to get back, hyung,” Jeno says, offering Kunhang a smile as the elder smiles back at him before hailing a cab.

He thinks of what to say, subtly trying to ignore the loaded second message from Jaemin, focusing on what could be an engaging conversation starter, so that Jaemin may prod about the ballet more and Jeno of course, would be more than ready to indulge him.

He settles for a short _I did enjoy. It’s too great, really,_ and waits for a reply as soon as he sits _Send_.

He doesn’t get any.

Gare De Lyon looks as dreamy at night as it did earlier. The humid evening air of Paris feels foreign on Jeno’s skin. Jeno buttons his coat completely, eyeing passengers starting to board the train back to Nice. He absentmindedly clasps on his bracelet, wondering how Jaemin’s day might have been, with the other being completely radio silent—except for that affectionate set of messages that seems more just inherently Jaemin than whatever Jeno’s traitorously hoping for. Either way, he hopes the other’s already resting at the moment, with the calltime for the following day being early.

“I guess I’ll see you again tomorrow, hyung,” Jeno says to Kunhang, who’s smiling once more with that strange sort of resignedness on his face.

Jeno studies the elder and almost misses his question in the haze of the forming crowd on the platform. “Hyung?”

“I said give Jaemin my regards,” Kunhang says, grin more friendly than swoony. “Renjun was right.” The elder lets out a sigh, followed by a smile that looks strained but genuine. “It was never a competition. Not with Seoul being the clear winner before it even began.”

Before Jeno could even clarify the analogy, Kunhang goes in for a quick hug, a casual one which Jeno returns momentarily before he’s being pushed towards the platform for the train ride leaving for Nice.

As he boards the train and finds his seat, Jeno decides to look out the window and scan the crowd for Kunhang. When he spots him, the elder’s back is already turned, walking away from the platform and back into the streets of the city.

He turns back to his phone and shoots him a short _Thank you for today, Kunhang hyung._

It’s only after almost an hour into his ride back when he gets a text from the elder that says _Thank you for today, too, Jeno. If you ever change your mind, you know where to reach me._

Jeno wakes up to the scenic blur of greenery under the moonlit sky outside.

He looks at his phone and sees it’s almost midnight. He deems it the right time for a late-night snack as per his grumbling stomach.

It’s quiet on the way to the train’s pantry but something clicks into place when he spots a familiar mop of fiery mahogany sitting on one seat by the window. He’s moving closer towards him before he can even notice it.

“Jaemin?”

The actor looks up from what looks like a festive medium-sized burger. The moonlight casts an ethereal glow on his surprised face. He looks as if he was caught, already on the verge of word vomit before blurting out an “I can explain.” 

Jeno just smiles at him, plopping down as if on autopilot on the empty seat next to him and says, “You didn’t tell me you went to Paris, too.”

Jaemin looks thankful, finishes swallowing his food before he replies. “Well, I’m allowed to enjoy the Parisian sun, too, aren’t I?”

Jeno can’t help but feel a lump in his throat forming knowing that Jaemin’s got no work-related agenda for the day meaning that it must have been—

“Were you on a date, then?”

“Well,” Jaemin starts, sipping from his canned soda. “If you count a stroll by yourself a date, then, a date it was.” The actor unwraps a portion of his burger and offers it to Jeno. “Here.”

He takes it right away, liking the smell wafting underneath his nose right before he takes a bite out of it. He mutters a garbled _Thanks_ , slightly delighted with the way Jaemin looks pleased with the sight of him gobbling on his food. “My last meal was before the show. And as good as it tasted, a panini can only last me a couple of hours or so.”

“Just a panini?” Mirth dances in Jaemin’s eyes. Jeno sees the insult before it’s even spoken. “I thought hyung would spoil you better than that.”

Jeno takes another bite. “He did, actually. But I took a raincheck on dinner. I’ve to get back to you—I mean to Nice after all.” He chews and chews and tastes a familiar hint of herbs and spices. “Hey, this tastes like _that_ —”

“ _Pissaladi_ è _re_ ,” Jaemin completes in perfect French, leaning towards him. “From the market, right?” Jeno nods in response and it acts like a cue for Jaemin to lean back, suddenly turning away to look outside. Jeno follows his gaze and looks outside too.

“You know, he gave me some,” Jeno starts to share. “Kunhang hyung—" He feels his cheeks warm thinking back to the elder’s silly but swoony gesture “—he had the vendor at the market give it to me before showing up afterwards by the fountains.”

“Did he say that?”

Jeno turns to Jaemin who’s watching him carefully, gaze unreadable. “Actually, no,” Jeno replies honestly, handing back the burger to Jaemin. He looks outside again, merely fascinated by the blur of the foliage they’re passing. “I never asked. Come to think of it,” he pauses to scratch his neck which feels warm all of a sudden. “I’ve never thanked him properly for anything.”

Thanked him for somehow steering his helpless self away from Jaemin for the day. And for being kind to Jeno from the get-go during that very first script reading. Suddenly, Jeno’s unrolling a list inside his head, on people he’s met over the past three years of working as Jaemin’s manager, the people he must thank in the next couple of months or so before he leaves for good.

“I’m going back to my seat,” Jaemin announces, giving his burger back to Jeno, vaguely glancing at Jeno’s wrist for a moment. He makes a move to stand up before Jeno can even react. Jeno follows suit— _like_ a _moth to a flame._

“Can I sit with you?” Jeno asks, like he always does. Because he has to. Because everything is a privilege. Because he misses him but will only take what he can get, what he’s allowed to get.

“Sure,” is Jaemin’s answer, tight-lipped and detached.

“Are you angry with me?” Jeno finally asks as their train slows down, signaling that they’re passing Marseilles. The terracotta roofs of the houses come into view, even amidst the tall trees all around them.

“No,” replies the actor sitting from across his seat. He’s facing against the direction of the train. Jeno had to double-check earlier if the actor wanted to switch, but he coolly declined and admitted he prefers that seat. _Because the scenery is slower from here_ is what Jaemin had said before giving Jeno the silent treatment for almost an hour now.

Jaemin still has his eyes closed despite not being asleep. Jeno can always tell when he’s really sleeping. It comes with the job, he thinks, knowing Jaemin so well down to the movement of his brows when he’s frustrated or the smallest pursing of his lips when he’s deep in thought.

He’s mad right now, but Jeno doesn’t know why. Jeno can tell where Jaemin’s moods come from most times, but at times when he can’t, he remains silent, not sure if he’s allowed to ask if Jaemin himself won’t open up.

“I’m angry with myself,” Jaemin finally says. His eyes flutter open, and they show nothing but frustration in them. “Because I thought I wouldn’t care but then something happens and it turns out, I do care and I hate it.” Jaemin speaks of hate but he’s the one looking guilty. “I hate it so much.”

“Why do you hate it?” Jeno asks, unsure of where this conversation’s going, unsure of what _it_ is. But talking always helps calm Jaemin down so he does it every time. It’s the least Jeno could do.

Jaemin sighs, shoulders deflating. “Because a year ago I thought I could learn how to not let it get it to me.” The other clicks his tongue, looking as if he’s finding the right words to say. “And I’ve tried so _hard_ because I know it’s impossible and I like this person so much that I’m afraid of things changing for the worse once I act on it.”

“You like someone?” The question is out of Jeno’s lips before he knows it. He wants to laugh for even asking because _of course_ , Jaemin would like someone. But what doesn’t make sense is the thought of it slipping past Jeno’s radar meaning it might really be the real deal if Jaemin intended to keep it to himself for this long.

“Yes,” is Jaemin’s soft answer. The ache in Jeno’s chest grows. “But I don’t think they like me back.”

 _That’s impossible_ is what Jeno almost says but doesn’t. Every moment feels like salt rubbing on his wounds but he presses on. “Have you told them?”

Jaemin laughs bitterly, as he leans back on his seat, on the verge of closing his eyes. The moonlight casts a somber glow to his face. “I don’t think I can.”

“Why?”

Jaemin opens his eyes again, gaze darting to Jeno’s wrist, but almost burning it with intensity even if he only looks at it for a moment. “Why don’t you tell them?” Jeno repeats, hoping for an answer.

Jaemin looks up at him, before relaxing back onto his seat, closing his eyes once again.

“Because this person already likes someone else.”

Jeno’s breath stutters, suddenly not knowing what else to say to that. Because he _does_ know that feeling. A hollow ache is forming in his chest, unsure if it’s because he’s hurting for himself or hurting for Jaemin. It continues to be quiet for a few more minutes before Jaemin breaks the silence.

“Can we talk about how your day went instead?”

“No,” Jeno softly says. “You better get more rest for your big day later.”

“But you’re frowning,” Jaemin points out, though his eyes remained closed. “That’s not the face of someone who went to see the ballet he’s been wanting to see since forever.”

 _Because you’ve just confessed about liking someone_ is what Jeno almost says. He tries to put on a smile and instead asks “You can’t even see me.”

“But I do. I always do,” Jaemin quickly says. “You’re smiling right now I think, feeling a little mischievous.”

“You’re just a good guesser,” Jeno comments, somehow recalling the order of events of his day earlier and how to tell them.

“Nah,” Jaemin tells him, eyes still serenely closed. “I think I just know more when it comes to you.”

Jeno just looks at the other, not knowing how to respond to that.

Jeno looks at him, until Jaemin opens his eyes, expression pensive and waiting. “Ya,” Jaemin calls out, more affectionately than annoyed. “What were the greatest parts of the ballet earlier, Jeno?”

It’s past six in the morning as they’re sat on the upper deck of a bus back to their rented house. The sun rises to the sky in a burst of pinks and oranges, spilling over the Mediterranean as its waves gently lap on its shores.

Jaemin quietly watches it all unfold as Jeno does the same, glancing at Jaemin from time to time. Jeno can’t help the ache of yearning unfurling in his chest, growing in sync with the ache that Jaemin’s already in love with someone.

“You’re finally wearing it,” Jaemin announces faintly that Jeno almost missed it. He’s seated near the railing of the upper deck, the light from the sunrise painting a halo over his head. Jaemin points to his wrist when Jeno makes a sound of confusion. “Wore it to a date no, less.” Jaemin’s voice sounds strange but Jeno thinks it’s from just having woken up. “So, are you dating _hyung_ , now?”

Jeno feels guilt lodge in this throat, for perhaps, leading Kunhang on in some way. He never really meant to, to be honest. “No,” he counters. “I don’t like him in that way.“ In some ways, Jeno feels as if Kunhang knew, that Jeno’s affections are no longer Jeno’s. 

“Why not?”

He likes Kunhang. Just not in the way Jaemin thinks because—

“I already have someone I like.”

“Oh.”

For a few moments, it’s just the sunlight passing over the unreadable look on Jaemin’s face. Jeno looks away first, afraid of going blind, no longer strong enough to keep looking.

“Wow,” Jaemin exclaims breathily. He feels him shifting, completely facing towards him now. “And you’ve never told me?”

He opens his mouth, feels his lips have dried and wets them without thinking much—a habit he must have picked up from Jaemin. Then, Jeno’s frantically looking everywhere but somehow calms down settles his gaze on his wrist, on the bracelet Jaemin gave him, on the moon dangling from it.

“Hey.” Jaemin’s voice is gentle, handing him his bottle of water, which he bought when their train arrived at Nice. Jeno takes it.

“You’re really _something_ , you know that, Jeno?” The actor chuckles. “Well, we both are.”

Jeno turns to Jaemin and is instantly overwhelmed at the magnitude of fondness mixed with exasperation on the actor’s face.

“Some kind of friends we are, huh, not telling each other about things like these when we’re almost with each other every hour of every day.”

Jeno feels his cheeks warm, unsure if it’s from the forming hurt over the insistence of his unrequited love or from something else entirely. “Do they know?” Jaemin asks as Jeno sips from the bottle, hand finding its way to perch onto Jeno’s left shoulder. “Have you told them?”

“No,” Jeno chokes out, making Jaemin giggle that impossibly infectious giggle of his as he draws his arm away, but not drawing away from Jeno completely. “We’re both cowards, huh,” says Jaemin, grinning as he leans back on his seat. He closes his eyes, already looking peaceful. 

Jeno thinks the conversation’s over but Jaemin calls his attention once more, looking into the horizon in the beginnings of daylight.

“Why don’t we tell them how we feel, Jeno?”

There’s a sound of refusal already on its way out of Jeno’s throat, but Jaemin is again, too quick.

“Let’s confess,” Jaemin challenges. “When we get back to Seoul.”

“You think the one I like is back at home?” is out of Jeno’s lips before he can think it through.

Jaemin turns to look at him, gaze pinning him on his seat. “So, he isn’t?”

Jeno tries to come up with an excuse or something smart to evade Jaemin’s prodding when Jaemin backs away first.

“Hey.” Jaemin’s gaze softens. “Just think about it, please.” The smile on his lips is small, but as terrifyingly radiant as the sun rising in the horizon. Jeno wants to keep it forever. “No rush.”

He thinks back to Kunhang and how yesterday already feels like days away entirely. He tries to think if there’s a tiny glimmer of chance his heart will choose someone else.

“Okay,” Jeno finally says.

_If you ever change your mind—_

But Jeno won’t. He doesn’t think he can. “Okay.”

_Seoul, July 2017_

Working himself to the bone soon gets the best of Jeno in the middle of summer.

Jaemin did end up getting cast for the role of Baekdong, or the deformed Randall—as Nari lovingly called him. But what surprisingly came with it was a slew of tedious recording sessions, and the expected press junkets, that unexpectedly came with school appearances ranging from public schools and private schools—whose halls are filled with the film's target market—to highly regarded universities including Yonsei. In between everything _Ithaca_ was the occasional casting calls that more often than not ended up biting the dust even before Jaemin could fully immerse himself in the role as he turned their scripts page by page.

The sun has set as Jeno guides Jaemin back into the passenger seat of the car. Today, Jaemin almost had 3 schedules but due to some reiterations on the availability of the rest of the main cast on other dates, their re-recordings were prioritized over Jaemin's. And so, they’re finally done for the day.

Jeno shakes his head, once, twice, before sinking on the driver seat and strapping himself in. Before he can even block it, a gentle hand rests on his forehead.

"Since when haven’t you been feeling well?"

Jeno turns away as Jaemin removes his hand. His interrogation continues. "Is this why you're mostly avoiding me since earlier? So that I wouldn't find out and tell you to take the rest of the day off?"

"The day's over." He massages his temple with his right hand, no longer trying to hide the incessant headache he's been having for almost a week now.

"That's beside the point."

"I survived. I'm driving you home."

Jaemin's out of the car in an instant, and opens the door to the driver seat with a threatening glare. "No," the actor bites out but the hand that rests on Jeno's is deceptively gentle. " _I'm_ driving _you_ home."

Jaemin, when he really puts his mind to it, always gets the last word, especially on things concerning Jeno. 

"I can take care of myself," Jeno manages to mumble even if he's already fumbling out of his seatbelt to follow what Jaemin wants.

By the time Jaemin finished helping him move to the passenger seat next to him, Jeno feels the full weight of his exhaustion kicking in, with murmurs of _Well, too bad I can take care of you, too_ or variations of it, stitching his surrender to sleep.

Jeno opens his eyes to the dimmed afternoon sunlight filtering in his bedroom.

He notes that he doesn’t feel as hot as he did before— _yesterday,_ he mentally corrects as he reaches out for his phone on his nightstand. He sits up, and leans on the headboard, still reeling from the exhaustion from the past week.

There’s only one unread message from Jaemin, which his fingers swipe to open instantly. It reads _Don’t even think about coming to work today. Managed to talk to Kwangsoo hyung if I could carpool with them today. Rest. Or else!!!!_

“He was very adamant about keeping you on bedrest.”

Jeno puts his phone down and offers a weak grin. Minjung hasn’t always been a fan of Jeno hiding things from her, even the common fever—especially the common fever.

“He’s good to you, I must say that,” Minjung says. Jeno feels like sinking in himself for some reason, noting the probing tone in his sister’s voice. “He’s married with a child, right?”

“Not married,” Jeno says, voice hoarse from sleep. “But yes, he has a daughter.”

“Whom you meet almost regularly too, and fetch from school from time to time?”

There’s a gentle hand on his forehead before he can even react. Minjung sighs, notably of relief. “Well, your fever’s not as high as last night’s.” She retracts her hand and offers Jeno a spoon, pouring water onto the glass in the tray that she’s brought. Next to the glass of water is a soup whose color doesn’t look as appealing as it smells. “Eat up. So you can drink your medicine. I’ll heat some water so we can clean you up.”

“Noona,” Jeno protests as she nudges the tray with a soup that smells of corn and herbs. The Lee women’s soup recipe for combatting fever. “I’m not a child.” He takes a spoonful of soup and hisses once it makes contact with his tongue.

Minjung laughs at him, a mixture of fondness and irritation on her face. Jeno makes a show of blowing the next spoonful he takes before letting it past his lips and down his throat. He almost wants to comment on how it tastes slightly different from how Minjung normally cooks it, but chooses to not do so anyways. He however looks up to Minjung, lips pressed into a thin line, looking like she’s about to offer a remark when his phone vibrates.

Jeno puts his spoon down in an instant to turn his phone upwards, opening another message from Jaemin. It’s a short _You don’t have to come tomorrow too, if you still have a fever. :(_

 _But tomorrow is Ithaca’s premiere_ —is what Jeno almost says out loud. His reverie is broken with his sister’s humming, as if she’s in thought. He looks up to find that she is looking at him, eyes like a hawk, crossing her arms in the way that she normally does when Haejung and her reach an impasse in the middle of their short but still charged arguments.

She’s inching forward and Jeno feels caught even if there’s no need to be. “Wow.” She inches back and makes a move to stand up. “Didn’t know you’ve become a messy eater.”

Jeno’s fingers dart toward the corners of his mouth, confirming Minjung’s observation.

“Text your employer back then eat” is the last thing she says as she closes the door to his bedroom, leaving a slightly dumbstruck Jeno.

The humid evening air of summer clings to Jeno’s skin as he enters the CGV theater.

He’s about to take out his phone as he steps out of the escalator when an excited Nari running towards him comes into view.

Her joy screeches to a halt as she properly stands before him, suddenly looking apprehensive to approach him. Jeno’s reminded that their last proper encounter after that one tense-ridden afternoon was the morning after that, with which Nari and Saerom came home to Jeno sleeping on Jaemin’s couch.

“How’s your pirouette?” Jeno asks, crouching down to properly break the ice. “Can you outdance your teachers already?”

The unguarded pout she gives washes Jeno with relief. “They said it isn’t part of their curric—” she clicks her tongue, frustrated over being unsure of how to pronounce it.

“Curriculum,” Jaemin finishes for her. Jeno stands to his full height on autopilot, quickly overcome with the guilt of missing the premiere night of _Ithaca._

“I’m sorry I couldn’t go,” Jeno says, mildly aware of Nari’s fingers holding on to his own. He lets her.

“It’s alright.” Jaemin shakes his head, clasping Nari’s other hand in his as he leads them all forward. “I can’t have you watching my animated movie premiere battling a fever.”

“Still,” Jeno trails off, not knowing why he still feels apologetic for something that has already happened. He sighs. He decides to focus on something else. “I should thank Kwangsoo hyung for looking after you during my days of sick leave.”

“Soup,” Jaemin blurts, clearing his throat as he looks ahead. “Did you like the soup?”

Jeno’s mind falters, thinking why would Jaemin even ask about his noona’s soup for him. He suddenly notes the faint reddening of Jaemin’s ears and wonders if the air conditioning in the theater is not cold enough.

Any further conversation is broken as Nari’s arm shoots out, pointing to the popcorn stall just beside the entrance to the theater.

“Right. I still have to buy us food,” Jaemin announces, stopping on his tracks. He turns to Jeno and gives him their tickets without looking at him in the eye for longer than a second. “Go ahead. I’ll join you in a few.” He bends down to kiss Nari on the crown of her hair, murmuring a soft “Go easy on Jeno, Nari-yah. He just got better.” 

Contrary to her father’s instructions, Nari excitedly dashes inside the theater, with an obedient Jeno in tow.

“Are you really feeling better now, manager-nim?” she asks Jeno once they find their designated seats. The look of genuine concern brings Jeno warmth that he can’t help but reach out and ruffle her . “I’m feeling fine, now. Thank you for asking.” He pulls down the armrest between them, as well the other armrests on Nari’s and Jaemin’s seats. “How’s your new school?”

Jaemin had idly mentioned Nari’s smooth transfer. Saerom mostly handled the specifics, for which Jaemin feels apologetic, but according to Jaemin, Saerom had emphasized that there’s no need to. Jeno remembers the look of relief on Jaemin’s face then, making him wonder if it’s in any way an indication of Jaemin and Saerom getting back together. Jeno files that thought at the back of his mind, unsure why his mind has unconsciously taken that route.

“I’ve made friends, I think. And Seo seonsaengnim is nice,” she announces, elbows sitting on the armrest between her and Jeno. “I haven’t fought with anyone yet,” she adds, folding back a bit, avoiding Jeno’s eyes. “If that’s what you’re asking.”

“Ya,” Jeno appeases, ruffling her hair once more as she shifts to properly sit on her seat. The lights inside the theater grow dimmer with the video reminder for theater etiquette starting to play on the screen in front. “Will you tell your appa now if you get into any trouble?”

“Only if you tell appa if you’re not feeling well, too.”

The response catches Jeno off-guard but he faces her anyways. “I promise,” he says, offering his pinky as a promise which she accepts instantly. “Then, I promise, too,” she chirps.

When he draws back, he scans around the area to check if Jaemin’s on his way, the light growing even dimmer than before, a cue that the movie’s about to start. He wonders if Jaemin thought wrong and that coming to watch in public is a bad idea and that even if Jaemin claims to not be as popular as he thinks he is, his few devoted fans can still somehow coincidentally be in the same place that he is.

“Are you excited to watch your appa?” he asks Nari, darting glances at the entrance so that he may wave at Jaemin in case he doesn’t spot them easily.

“Are you?” 

Nari’s question makes Jeno shift on his seat to look at her, slightly amused at her throwing him back his question. “Of course, I am. He worked hard in this.”

“He did,” Nari says. “He said he’d even be cooler the second time around so I agreed to come.”

“Second time?”

Nari looks at him, covering her mouth as if she spilled something she’s not supposed to. “Forget I said anything, manager-nim.” Her eyes go comically wide, her hands restlessly waving in the space between her and Jeno. “He said you’d only come if I come along too.” Her voice grows quieter, but not any less fierce. “He really wanted to watch this with you.”

Jeno grows quiet, stunned by a confession that really doesn’t mean that much in a grander scheme of things but not any less overwhelming. _He’s Jaemin’s manager for crying out loud, why won’t Jeno say yes to watching it with him?_

“Did he really say that?”

She nods, seemingly folding herself smaller for fear of divulging anything more. “He said so, while making soup two days ago.”

Jeno stills. “Soup?”

“That was close!” Jaemin announces as he appears, sitting down on the seat beside Nari’s just as the opening credits start to roll on screen. “One for you.” He places a bag of popcorn between her and Nari and offers another one to Jeno. “And for you, too, of course.”

“Thanks,” Jeno mumbles, fingers slightly touching Jaemin’s as he accepts the popcorn. Farmhouse cheddar, Jeno notes, recalling if he had mentioned it to Jaemin earlier.

“Is the flavor alright?”

_“Did you like the soup?”_

“Yes,” Jeno answers, cheeks suddenly warm in the coldness of the cinema. Somehow, he feels embarrassed to ask Jaemin upfront. He mentally notes to ask Minjung later, already wondering why she hasn’t directly told him in the first place.

“Did I miss much while I was gone?”

Jaemin’s already looking at the screen while Nari’s giving Jeno wary side glances which Jeno responds to by mouthing _I won’t tell him._

“No,” Jeno replies, his stomach suddenly in knots over soup, his favorite popcorn flavor and the ridiculous butterflies fluttering in a frenzy in his stomach, almost matching the frenetic animated opening credits on the screen. “You didn’t.”

Before they part ways and retire for the night, Jeno finds himself with an armful of Nari as he ascends the stairs in Jaemin’s household.

Jaemin’s on a somewhat heated phone call with what Jeno guesses to be his dad. The actor insisted on taking it outside, for fear that his rage may wake up Nari.

She’s already halfway dozing off so Jeno doesn’t expect an answer when he asks “Do your dad often cook for people?”

“Yes,” she mumbles on his shoulder. “For people he likes.” He helps her sit on her bed, and crouches down to help her take off her shoes.

“He cooked for _eomma_ the other day.”

Jeno’s fingers halt on the laces. _Of course. They’re family. They have a child. They’re together. Even if they’re not together, really,_ Jeno thinks in a flash. If the soup Jeno had was indeed from Jaemin, it might have been merely a leftover, because the actor might have made too much. That was it.

He feels the beginnings of a self-deprecating smile when Nari tugs on the sleeve of his shirt. He looks up at her. “Hm?”

“Can you carry me again, manager-nim?”

He wordlessly complies, knowing very well how Chaera and Bongju also particularly enjoyed being carried as children. Minjung tells him Jeno’s particularly good at it, with both the twins insisting Jeno rock them to sleep almost every night.

He starts humming the Lee women’s lullaby, a simple melody that always reminds Jeno of the gentle tides of the sea back in Jeju. He’s not quite confident that he can sing in tune but he tries his best anyways, remembering the lulling hymn that his _halmang_ uses to put him to sleep.

He doesn’t notice the door to Nari’s bedroom opening until he sees Jaemin, standing by the door frame, arms crossed.

Jaemin smiles at him, small but warm which he returns with a smile of his own that he hopes doesn’t look as flustered as he feels, mainly from assuming that Jaemin may have cooked for him.

“Sorry. You don’t have to do this,” Jaemin starts, biting on his lip in slight worry. “This isn’t part of your job.”

“It’s alright,” Jeno assures him, rubbing Nari’s back in soothing motions. The crease in Jaemin’s forehead softens. “I don’t mind.”

“Still,” Jaemin says. He steps into their bubble as he softly calls out to the comfortably sleeping bundle of sunshine in Jeno’s arms, “Nari-yah, it’s getting late.” The grin Jaemin gives Jeno is apologetic. “It’s time for manager-nim to go home.”

Nari makes a hushed noise of protest but allows herself to be scooped up into her dad’s waiting arms.

“Let’s get you clean before you go to bed,” says Jaemin as he combs through her hair before looking up at Jeno one last time, mouthing a faint _Thank you for today, Jeno._

All Jeno manages to do is nod in response, before making his way downstairs and outside of the house, and into the car as it roars to life, which is still comparably not as loud as the growing erratic thundering in his chest.

_Seoul, present day_

The synthesized deep house sound of the opening stanza fills the IDC studio in jubilant waves as the song begins for the fourth time.

By now, Jeno’s perfectly synchronized his pops and locks with Jongin’s before the song breaks into its harmonic refrain. Jeno and Jongin move as one unit, perfectly on beat, following Jongin’s counting, all the way until their perfectly rehearsed second refrain just before the spoken bridge.

“Parisian air truly inspired you, huh?” Jongin comments as he turns down the volume of the speakers. He reaches for their tumblers, handing Jeno his. “We’re left with the last chorus that’s supposed to end on a transcendental finish.” He taps on his tumbler in thought, sitting down on the wooden floors, legs extended before sitting cross-legged. Jeno mirrors him.

“It’s the shortest time we’ve choreographed.” He uncaps his tumbler and grins at Jeno, all casual and boyish. “Should have asked you to co-lead with me sooner.”

Jeno lets out a light laugh, mind still following the elastic dance beat of the song still playing in the background. He thinks of the vast sunny skies, almost whiffing—not Parisian air—but the humid air from the beach, from the sands of Nice.

Jaemin’s offer hangs on the quiet creeks of his mind, dormant but waiting for a chance to be unpeeled into the open.

They don’t talk about Nice. No talks of the train ride, of the quiet sunrise they shared from the comfort of their seats on the upper deck of the tourist bus back to their then temporary shelter. Instead, there are more disarming smiles, burning gazes and lingering touches. More than usual. He’s thankful however, that apart from it all, in the midst of the hectic filming schedules for _The Seventh Sense_ , Jaemin’s never asked him again. Never asked about the person that Jeno likes.

“Will you be dancing with us at the showcase this year?” Jongin asks, breaking through Jeno’s self-induced reverie. He’s stretching his arms absent-mindedly, but he’s clearly all ears for whatever Jeno will say. “Everyone’s looking forward to you joining, you know.”

Jeno tries not to visibly deflate as he uncaps his tumbler to drink from it. Jongin’s still watching him as he finishes drinking, wondering how to break the news to the elder.

“Four years and we still haven’t experienced dancing with you for it. Everyone’s already joking about you being a half ghost here.” Jongin leans back, supporting himself and both arms. “You’re dancing with us, sure, but it’s like you’re just coming and going.” The elder’s lips form into a frown. “Not really staying.”

“I—”

“I know. I know.” Jongin cuts him off, understanding already etched on his face. “Your job is your priority.”

“I’m not.” Jeno starts, looking at the laces of his worn-out sneakers. “I’m not staying any longer.”

It feels like a minute has passed before he decides to look up. It’s the first of the many talks he has to be brave enough to make. “I’m leaving for Jeju.”

Realization unfolds in the elder’s face, and then, worry. “How soon?”

“Before the year ends.”

“Ah,” Jongin muses, pursing his lips in thought. “So, definitely not joining the showcase again, I see.”

The smile Jeno gives him is apologetic.

“And here I was, hoping you’d be with us forever,” Jongin teases. “Well, as long as Jaemin’s schedule permits that is.”

 _Ah_ , Jeno thinks. _Here it goes_.

“Have you told Jaemin? And the company?”

Jeno looks down again, shakes his head, not knowing what else to say in defense of not responding earlier.

Hands suddenly rub on both of his shoulders. “Ya,” Jongin calls out, huddling closer before drawing his hands back. “Jeju’s nice and it’s your home.” The elder puts on a smile, more hopeful than sympathetic. “I’m happy for you,” Jongin adds, making Jeno smile because the elder is truly one of the most accepting people he’s ever met.

“Have you decided on what you’ll be doing there?”

A lump forms in his throat as Jeno thinks of the Economics refresher material on his bedside at home.

 _You have to review, Jeno. In case you’ve completely lost touch with this life_ is what Minjung had said as she hands him the stack of books the minute he arrived home from Nice.

“No,” Jeno says honestly, feeling small and distant from the elder even if he’s right there with him. “I still haven’t.”

“But how could you not?” Nari’s face is fuming, as if he’d said the most incredulous thing in the world.

“How could you have _this—_ ” She raises her chin, arms outstretched upwards, in the same way that Jeno did just now, showing one of the key moves in what they’ve choreographed so far for Neo Culture’s next comeback single. “And not have Mark oppa at the center as they do it?”

Jeno grins, plopping down on his original spot on the carpet from earlier, Nari, repulsed from across the short-legged living room table. “You’re picking up dances faster and faster, aren’t you?”

“Of course,” Nari proudly agrees, arms-crossed. The moment only lasts for a second before she pouts, shoulders deflating as she looks down on the stretch of exercises that she’d been doing with Jeno for half an hour now. “If only, I could learn this faster, too.”

“Ya,” Jeno calls out. He perches his arms on the table, chin resting on his knuckles. “You’re being too hard on yourself,” he says. “We’ve actually made excellent progress from earlier.”

Nari shakes her head, looking up at Jeno. “Eomma says appa is bad at Math. She says I’ve gotten it from him.” She blinks up at Jeno in wonder. “Is it true, manager-nim?”

“Hm.” Jeno scrunches his nose, as if in thought. “She might be correct.”

“I knew it,” Nari comments, arms fallen to her sides. “Must be why she stopped liking him.”

Jeno sits straighter at that. “You’re underestimating your appa, Nari-ya.”

“You don’t have to defend him when he’s not here, manager-nim,” she says, matter-of-fact. “I bet that’s also why she likes Seongwu ahjussi better.” She huddles closer to the table. “Seongwu ahjussi sells things at _eomma’s_ office. That must mean he’s good at Math, right?”

“Your appa is still much more handsome,” Jeno says, surprised at his lack of shame saying it. He knows he has to defend Jaemin’s honor somehow.

Nari shakes her head sagely. “What are good looks when you can’t do Math?”

Jeno just laughs at that, losing all energy to spar with her verbally.

“ _Is Nari asleep?_ ” Jaemin’s voice still sounds alert, despite it being almost midnight, according to the rabbit clock on the teal-coated walls of the Na household’s guest room.

“Yes,” Jeno replies, getting comfortable under the covers of the bed. “She got tired learning Math.”

The laughter from the other line soothes Jeno’s heart in a gentle caress. He’s last heard it the day prior as they’re having dinner at Jaemin’s kitchen but he finds himself never not drawn to the pleasing sound of it, even in the form of a phone call.

“Did a lot of people show up?” Jeno asks, yawning as he does. “Aren’t you sleepy yet?”

 _“Yes, and no,”_ Jaemin answers. _“The family’s complete as usual. Haelmoni must be smiling from up there. She’s as famous as ever. ”_ Jeno beams drowsily, feeling Jaemin’s affections for his _haelmoni_ as if it were his own for his _halmang_ . “ _And abeoji is as insufferable as ever.”_ Jaemin clicks his tongue, sounding as if he doesn’t want to discuss it further so Jeno doesn’t prod.

 _“How about you?”_ Jaemin’s voice is so tender and clear. If Jeno closes his eyes he thinks he could just picture Jaemin lying on his side too, facing him, talking to him until he falls asleep.

_“How was your day, Jeno?”_

Despite the sleepiness taking over from the edges of his consciousness, Jeno recounts the other stories Nari told him, leaving out the part about Nari praising Seongwu at Jaemin’s expense. He also tells Jaemin of what his and Jongin’s choreo still somehow lack, tells him he wants to go the extra mile and add an extra personal touch to it.

 _“You could incorporate Paris into it,”_ Jaemin offers with a bite. _“Incorporate the lovely sights you’ve seen with Kunhang hyung.”_

 _Oh_ , Jeno thinks, _so they’re finally talking about Paris now_.

But Jeno is too sleepy, and he just knows he’s only a few heartbeats away from completely succumbing to sleep. Still, he manages to bypass Jaemin’s snark and ask him, “What did _you_ like about Paris, Jaemin?”

 _“Ya,”_ Jaemin says. _“I said incorporate your experience, not mine.”_ Jeno chuckles sleepily. _“Besides,”_ Jaemin starts again. _“I liked Nice more.”_

“Really?” Jeno asks, feeling as if he’s merely mumbling his syllables now, heart only a little heavy with the unsung confession of the waves lapping at the shores of Nice inspiring most of his choreography. “What did you like about it?”

_“The fact that there’s less people there than in Cannes and Paris.”_

“Hm.”

_“The feeling of the sun on my skin. The stretch of the coastline where the sky meets the sea.”_

“Hm.”

_“The look on your face from across the fountains when it felt like you’ve seen me but really didn’t.”_

“Huh.” 

_“But I liked it best when we barely had any sleep but you still kept looking at me as if the sun was rising in my eyes.”_

He hears Jaemin chuckle to himself. _“Or well, maybe that’s how I like to remember it.”_

Jeno’s moved to lie on his back now, eyes on the ceiling, mind made sober by Jaemin’s outpour. _Was he that obvious? And Jaemin’s okay with it? Likes it even?_

 _“You still remember, right?”_ Jaemin sounds closer than ever, even if he’s just on the other line. _“You’ll tell me once you’ve told them, right?”_ Jeno holds his breath. _“Have you told them?”_

“No.” He finds himself sitting up, nerves rattling, not expecting to have this conversation over the phone. “I haven’t.”

He’s always thought the news of him leaving would be the first—the only thing he’ll have to share, even if he’d promise to Jaemin back in Nice that he would confess once they fly back home. And that was almost a month ago, and yet, no move has been made. Even from Jaemin’s end, Jeno notes. Jeno briefly wonders if Nari knows who Jaemin likes, if it’s still Saerom as Nari hoped it was, if it’s someone Jeno knows too. They’re almost tied at the hip so Jeno figures he must have, in one way or another, met this person.

 _“Jeno,”_ Jaemin calls out, breaking his reverie. “ _Whoever they are—“_ Jaemin cuts himself off, as if he’d gathered so much resolve before saying it. “ _I hope they like you, too._ ”

“Jaemin, I—”

 _“Good night, Jeno,”_ Jaemin says gently, as he hangs up the call, Jeno’s heart rendered completely restless in its wake, ironically not ready for sleep anytime soon.

_Seoul, July 2011_

Jeno barely had any sleep.

His throat itches as the instrumental layers itself on the melody of the piano, wanting to get through the evaluation unscathed as much as possible.

There’s a selection of songs for this month’s evaluation. Half are western releases from earlier that year and the year prior, while half are demos that are possible future tracks for SM’s growing discography.

Jeno gets assigned to one of the slower, more mellow demo tracks. Somehow, sometime, during the rehearsals for the dance evaluation performance, he gets picked as center. It’s not a big deal, but the song their group is assigned to is the most performative of all the dance evaluation tracks. So naturally, to counter the building nerves and anxiety of falling short, Jeno chooses to stay even beyond the practice hours originally set for them everyday. Apart from making sure it fits his role as center, he also wishes to absorb the moves until it seems like second nature already, so he might be of help to the other newer, and less confident members of their team. He’s been in their shoes after all—is _still_ in them, albeit a little more confident on his skillset and his drive to learn faster with every new routine.

He’s alone but revels in it, determined and focused on getting the moves as gracefully as possible, knowing full well that fluidity is his weak point; it’s been generously pointed out by a few of their instructors on numerous occasions. By the time he deems he’s practiced enough for the day, he’s accompanied by the clear-cut singing from the studios for the vocal trainees from across the other wing. It’s singing the Mandarin version of a demo track that Jeno’s been rehearsing himself.

He’s not sure if the song is a direct translation of the Korean one that he’s been dancing to but it feels soothing, to at least know the meaning of the song, from the choreography they were taught. As he steps into the elevator, he prays too, that the vocal trainee passes this month’s evaluation with flying colors.

It starts off with him walking towards the center.

He stands, back turned to the audience, before stalking off to the side, the others’ cue for their own entrance as they move to their initial positions.

They’re mostly frozen in place, apart from him, who’s moving from place to place in not-quite half turns. They move as he moves with them, as if he tugs on the invisible strings taut on their limbs.

As he completes his circling, the rightmost trainee skips with him to the left, with him ending back on the center, as he makes a complete turn before the nearest trainees dance with him in sync before they all move as one, dancing along as the refrain hits climax, flowing into the harmonious chorus.

They end the performance on a more compact formation, with him on the center, their arms braced on their chests, as if to contain the emotions that may still be poured out from their chests and into their performance.

The instructors praise their group as a whole, delivering only the minimal comments on the lines of their arms and bodies. Jeno’s heart sings with contentment as one of the instructors commend him for giving justice to the center position, saying how it’s refreshing to see Jeno at his most graceful at evaluations.

After they take their bows, Jeno sees one of the trainees from the crowd gaze at him with realization, as if he’s seen something in Jeno that nobody else in the room hasn’t. Jeno offers a smile not knowing what to express under the scrutiny of the stranger. He feels his cheeks warm up as the stranger smiles back.

It’s when Jeno stays to watch the vocal evaluations that he finds out the trainee’s name is Xiao Dejun, who’s relatively new and has flown all the way from China to fulfill his dreams in a foreign country.

It turns out that Dejun’s group is assigned the Mandarin version of what Jeno’s group has danced to. And when Dejun starts singing, Jeno realizes that _it’s him_. It’s the voice that kept him company as he left the premises of the building after a day’s worth of practice.

When Dejun’s group takes their leave, Jeno finds himself looking at him, hoping for some sort of recognition even if they had no contact or whatsoever during those separate overtime rehearsals. But Dejun surprises him, his chiseled jaw moves to form a boyish grin as he approaches Jeno.

“You sing well,” Jeno blurts in Mandarin, remembering the bare minimum that he knows from the language classes given to them as trainees. The grin on Dejun’s face grows wider before breaking into a deep laughter, a sound that Jeno will find himself drawn to in the months that follow.

“Thank you but you should teach me how to dance like you,” Dejun says in Korean. And if Jeno isn’t impressed after the latter’s singing, he’s most certainly impressed now. He knows that learning a different language is difficult, let alone working towards a career using one. He mumbles a _Yes_ and finds himself dragged to a new table at the dorm cafeteria later that evening, joined by another Chinese trainee named Liu Yangyang and the infamous super trainee Mark Lee who’s mostly friends are older trainees that have already debuted as artists under SM’s label.

The dinner ends with Dejun asking if Jeno would like to hear him sing with his guitar some time. Jeno says _yes_ in a heartbeat, eager to accept the friendship that Dejun is clearly offering. His immediate response makes Dejun chuckle so Jeno explains that his _abang_ had an old guitar back in Jeju and that he’d always asked him to play it even if his abang only knows the same three songs that eerily sound as one song.

“I won’t just play it for you, then,” Dejun cheekily says in Korean. “I’ll teach you, too. So you can play for your _abang_ when you go back.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jeno says before they soon walk to their dorm rooms, exchanging what their parents and grandparents are called in each other’s language, trading interesting stories of everyone rooting for them back in their hometowns. 

It feels refreshing in a way, for Jeno, to meet someone who doesn’t sound homesick even with the distance from Seoul to Guangdong being farther than the distance from Seoul to Jeju. By the time they part ways and head into their respective rooms, Jeno thinks that Dejun is _so easy to like_.

Somehow, in between Jeno’s crash course lessons on playing the guitar, their late-night lessons of Mandarin and Korean, and their timely escapes to Jongno for the cheap _xiao long bao_ that according to Dejun almost tastes like home, Jeno realizes what it feels like to fall in love for the first time. 

_Seoul, present day_

“And cut!” Assistant director Kim blurts from behind the crew member wearing the heavy-looking steadicam.

“We’ll start the next scene in 15 on Set 4 outside. Thank you!” Assistant Director Kim is jolly as he clasps his hands together. “Actors for that scene please get ready.”

From where Jeno stands at the back near the other equipment, AD Kim towers over all the crew beside him. The young AD looks as if he might be around Jaemin’s and Jeno’s age. Jeno briefly wonders how many other projects has the AD worked on prior this one, guesses if he’s worked with Geum kamdongnim before, who in turn previously worked as the AD for Jaemin’s breakout project, the 30-episode JTBC fusion sageuk, _Once I Rose, I Would Move Mountains_.

“We’ll join you outside in a few,” Geum _kamdongnim_ speaks up just then as he enters the set, bowing in a perfect 90-degree bow to each of the cast and crew members that are heading outside to the set of the next scene they’re shooting. The rookie director still looks the same as he did as when he was running left and right as the AD of the show that unknowingly aced the Monday-Tuesday slot on primetime, scoring a surprising runaway hit for the cable network.

Jeno sees Jaemin walk towards them to check on the footage they’ve just taped. Jeno decides to approach them too, ready to commend Jaemin for a job well done, as always.

“ _Yeokshi_ , our actor Nana, really,” AD Kim says to Jaemin, gesturing a thumbs up and flashing one of his dopiest grins. “That was one of your best takes so far.”

“He’s right,” says the young director who’s got his phone clutched to his chest. “I still can’t believe you’re working with us.” Geum kamdongnim looks as grateful as he sounds and it warms Jeno’s heart that Jaemin has truly come this far. 

“All in a day’s work,” Jaemin quips as he grins back, hand scratching his neck unconsciously. It’s so _Jaemin_ to still flush from compliments thrown at him. It’s one of the things that probably will never change, one of the things that Jeno hopes doesn’t change about the actor.

When the director’s phone rings, Jeno’s brought back to the present. Geum kamdongnim checks his phone briefly before excusing himself, bowing to Jaemin and the crew members. And then, he’s heading outside as he takes the call.

It’s Jeno’s cue to plant himself beside Jaemin, tumbler in hand, with AD Kim already preoccupied with talking with some of the lightsmen on the side.

The actor crosses his arms, fingers raising to his chin unconsciously, as he takes in the hilarity of his performance: a scene wherein his character is supposed to be haunted by the ghosts of the precinct as their chief commanding officer gives him a lecture on not causing any more trouble for their unit. Due to the tight budget at the moment, visual effects still aren’t part of the picture so Geum kamdongnim and his production team have previously arrived at the decision of filming Jaemin acting as if he’s spooked by unseen ghosts in the precinct. Jaemin mentioned to Jeno how their editor’s mostly present during filming too, to be able to work around Geum kamdongnim’s vision given the budget constraints and not just rely on the storyboard they’ve drafted during pre-production.

“Wow,” Jaemin whispers to himself as the footage ends. “I think I could’ve done better.”

“Ya,” Jeno finally says, uncapping Jaemin’s tumbler before handing it to him. “AD Kim just said this is one of your best takes, and I agree.”

Jaemin takes his tumbler, and chugs on it, looking as if he’s still on thought on how he could’ve improved his performance from earlier.

“Nana,” Jeno calls out. “I’m serious.” He crosses his arms to make a point. “Sometimes, you’re really too hard on yourself.”

“Well, I don’t trust you,” Jaemin finally says, eyes comically narrowed down in slits at Jeno as they start walking towards Set 4. “I think you like me too much to be objective about my acting.”

Jeno suppresses a laugh, only mildly caught off-guard by the first part of the other’s statement. “You’re wrong.”

“About you liking me too much?” Jaemin’s not looking at him when he asks. Jeno’s thankful for it. 

“No, it’s not—” Jeno tries to say but—

“You better walk the talk first before lecturing me, Jeno.”

“Huh?”

“Have you said yes to the live demo of the choreo?”

Jeno stops in his tracks, sighing. “No, not yet,” he answers honestly, not wanting to argue with Jaemin again like the first time he casually mentioned it to the actor. Jaemin had been insistent in _showing SM what they lost_.

“Besides,” Jeno says as he starts walking again. “I think Jongin hyung can sell that choreo alone. And it’s on a weekday and you have a packed schedule ahead before Venice in August and things I need to tend to and—”

There’s hands on his shoulders before he could even react, soothing him instantly. “It’s just one day, Jeno. I’m sure I’ll get by fine without you.”

“Would you really?” Jeno asks without thinking.

Jaemin responds with his arms around Jeno, locking him in an embrace, too comfortable and reassuring that Jeno feels the prickling guilt of his one-sided affection. He’s suddenly reminded of promises to confess, made with the sunrise in Nice as their witness. Jaemin hasn’t brought anything up. But then again, Jaemin’s schedule is packed. And if there’s another thing that Jeno likes about Jaemin, it’s that he’s focused. He could be the most playful and happy-go-lucky on some days but when it comes down to it, he’s an output-driven person, dead-set on his goals for the project at hand.

“I’ll be fine, Jeno,” Jaemin whispers, his breath tickling Jeno’s neck, before pulling away. Both hands perch on both of Jeno’s shoulders, squeezing them one last time before letting go.

“Just do what you have to do.” 

The opening synth sounds of _Oasis_ fill the mirror-walled dance studio.

Side by side, Jongin and Jeno glide on the wooden floors—all sharp angles with the smoothest of waves in between—waves from the snappy extension of their arms, the sliding of their feet into a certain position before launching onto the next one.

Jeno rides the music in continuous waves, sharp movements becoming a bit more chaotic as the song goes from refrain to the chorus. 

Almost as if as one, Jongin and him mimic singing onto the mic on one hand, as their other arms continue their thrusts and waves along the unified singing on the chorus.

The song continues, passing from the second stanza to the spoken bridge where an isolation-driven dance break commences with a formation that will spread most of the performers on the stage as per Jeno’s vision for it.

And as the song breaks into the penultimate chorus, Jeno climbs on the chair and lets go one last time, arms stretching upwards before falling down as if he’s the cascading fountains that has never left his mind again ever since his phone call with Jaemin.

When it ends, there’s clapping from Neo Culture’s choreographer and another older instructor who Jeno realizes hasn’t remembered him. There’s also whistling as Jeno spots two more faces who he guesses might have joined them at some point of their choreo demonstration.

“If we win dance of the year at any of the award shows, you better be prepared to come up on stage,” exclaims Yangyang in a bated breath, voice mostly casual, as if Jeno being back at the SM dance studio is perfectly normal— _like it was before_ —even if the newly furnished studio feels more foreign than ever. Jeno would ask Yangyang about it, about when the sky painted walls were replaced to make way for the more economical mirrors spanning the entire length of the walls of the studio. Jeno would ask Yangyang about a lot of things but he’s not sure he’s able to ask anything related to SM and Jeno’s past. They’ve managed to bypass everything somehow which is more of a feat on Yangyang’s part who’s been messaging with Jeno on what could be defined as a regular basis. It’s just so _easy_ to stay in touch with Yangyang all these years even if Jeno’s always mostly bailing on meeting with the other.

“That was breath-taking.” The awe in the younger’s face solidifies into firmness when he adds, “I’m serious.”

“He’s right,” Mark pipes up beside him, gaze dancing between Jongin and Jeno. “My jaw is still on the floor. Wow.” 

“Mostly thanks to this prodigy right here,” Jongin says, suddenly looping his arm around Jeno to affectionately ruffle on his hair. “He’s an artist. This one.”

“We know,” Yangyang says knowingly, eyes filled with affection that feels as genuine as it did five years ago, when Jeno felt like the rest of the world has turned against him. “We know.”

Late lunch is at the pastel-walled café on SM’s ground floor.

Yangyang had convinced Mark to use his card to pay for Jeno and Jongin’s lunches. Yangyang and Mark shared an order of fish and chips and a cup of americano for Mark with Yangyang explaining they’re officially approaching comeback season now meaning it’s time they be mindful again of their diets. Yangyang orders chicken carbonara and a green tea latte for Jeno and chicken penne and a chocolate smoothie for Jongin.

“Oh wow, you’re into tea now?” The fascination rings true in Mark’s voice. “You used to hate the taste.” _Of the oolong tea that Dejun always drinks_ is what the elder almost supplies. “But then again,” Mark says as he swirls his cup of americano. “It really has been a while since then.”

“Jeno never really did mention a thing,” Jongin comments as he sips from his smoothie. “If I’d known I might have included him in more projects.” 

“Well, at least, he’s included in this one,” Yangyang pipes up, casually placing a fish fillet onto Jeno’s carbonara. “Try it,” the younger suggests, chewing on one piece as if to demonstrate that it doesn’t taste that bad. “It tastes miles better from the one served at the dorm’s cafeteria before but it is slightly overpriced.”

Jeno breaks into a grin, taking a bite of the fish fillet. “Are the skies gone from all the practice rooms?” He starts to ask, idly noticing how Mark and Jongin somehow fell into an easy conversation by themselves.

“Sadly,” Yangyang replies, nestling his chin into his palms. “They took them down two years ago I think? I knew I should have sent you pictures.” Realization dawns on the other’s face. “Wow, you really don’t even check any of our sns. We’ve already filmed dance practices thrice with the new interiors. I’m really kinda hurt.”

“Ya,” Jeno calls out. “I am casually updated.” Which is true. Mainly because of Nari and her intense love for Mark. “I just don’t linger on them for too long…” Because of Dejun. Dejun who Jeno eventually learned adapted the stage name Xiaojun, an amalgamation of his family name and his given name. Dejun used to list down possible stage names on the back of his diary. Jeno had always just thought he’d be just Jeno. 

“He’s not here,” Yangyang says. Jeno looks up at the other. “Well,” Yangyang adds. “He’s not here _yet_. He’s flying back tomorrow from China, fresh from starring in a musical of his dad’s theatre company.”

 _Ah,_ Jeno thinks. Dejun always dreamt to go back home and star in a stage play with his dad. Dejun dreamt of a lot of things. Jeno used to think he was a part of one of those.

“He’s releasing a solo SM station song by the way.” Yangyang is so casual as he begins to reveal more, about future guestings that might be a part of their comeback and even international stops of their upcoming album tour. It’s just like how Yangyang is on a normal basis, on his almost regular chats with Jeno.

“Has Jeno never seen you perform live?” Jongin asks, suddenly placing him and Mark back in the conversation again.

Mark shakes his head in response quickly, only to look apologetic towards Jeno moments after.

“Jeno’s a busy person, we understand,” Yangyang placates, eyes gazing at Jeno as if saying _I got this. I got you._

“You could come though, hyung,” Mark tries to deflect. Or so Jeno thinks. “Come see us during filming.” Mark’s grin at the elder is sweet, almost saccharine. “You’d see how we try to give justice to your choreography.”

“Ah,” Jongin visibly shrinks in his seat but looks pleased somehow. “That would be terribly imposing of me.”

“I can come with you, hyung,” Jeno offers, suddenly feeling all eyes on him, including those from a wary Yangyang. It feels like he’s back in the grimmest interiors of a random office in one of SM’s older buildings, all eyes on him as he says his piece, a piece that he thought he shares with someone he’s cherished for most of his stay as a trainee.

“Are you sure, Jeno?” Jongin asks.

“It might be on a weekday, too, like today,” Yangyang points out. “And you’re always busy so--”

“It’s fine.” Jeno internally squashes the anxiety bubbling in his chest. “It’ll be fine.”

_Seoul, September 2017_

  
  


“You’re wrong!” Kwangsoo exclaims, as he fills up all three of their shot glasses. “Absolutely wrong!”

Kwangsoo and Jaemin’s debate has been going on in circles for almost half an hour now, starting from their very first bottle of soju. Jeno had been initially worried that Jaemin might be recognized during their impromptu night out, but Jaemin had sweetly reiterated that the other customers inside their tent are mostly folks in their 50s, who he doubts are aware that Jaemin has recently dubbed for a Korean-dubbed polish animated film. Jaemin had been all smiles as he said it, but Jeno couldn’t help but feel a pang of bittersweetness on the actor’s behalf.

The moment that it was established that getting recognized won’t be a problem, Kwangsoo and Jaemin’s verbal sparring just grew louder and more dramatic with each rebuttal; the other tables inside the _pojamangcha_ had set their eyes on them more than once since they started arguing. Frankly, Jeno’s surprised that the kind ahjumma hasn’t kicked them out yet even if she had squinted at them for a couple of times now, mostly due to Kwangsoo’s antics.

“I don’t think so,” Jaemin retorts calmly. “She’s not marrying him, yet, hyung.” He maintains his perfect posture as he stabs his chopstick on one of the _tteokbokki_ and swallows it in one go. “I say you tell her.”

“ _Ahjummoni_!” Kwangsoo calls out as he raises his right hand, eyes locked with Jaemin’s. “Two more bottles of soju!” He quickly downs his glass in one go and slams the empty glass on the wooden table with gusto. “This kid right here has a lot to learn.”

“What do you think, Jeno?” The actor’s turned his attention to Jeno, gaze pinning him on the spot. Jeno feels himself shrink on his stool as the familiar feeling of butterflies fluttering fills his stomach. “Kwangsoo hyung should tell her how he feels, right?”

Kwangsoo’s drunkenly shaking his head as he waits for Jeno’s answer. He’s not looking at Jaemin and Jeno but on his hand struggling to get a piece of _tteokbokki_. Jeno helps him.

“Hyung has his reasons,” Jeno starts to say as he watches the elder quietly chew on his _tteokbokki_ , the collar of the elder’s shirt already stained with _gochujang_ paste. He’s known Kwangsoo and his one-sided affections for a while now and Jeno’s opinions have never changed. 

Kwangsoo fell in love with Lee Taeri in the first year of working as her manager. The elder had been completely professional, not letting his personal feelings cloud his judgment and decisions in managing the actress’ career.

Just days ago, however, Taeri had informed Kwangsoo that she’s decided to switch agencies, the moment her contract with Dreaming Ent. expires. Taeri had been sweet though, as Kwangsoo pointed out, extending an offer to leave with her and follow her into the agency she’s transferring to. Everything almost sounded lovely up until the actress confessed about one of the new agency’s employees being a childhood friend she’d recently reunited with. Kwangsoo’s heart further ached as Taeri shared how said childhood friend had confessed to her and how she’s willing to date him; her feelings for said childhood friend that she had nurtured all these years now grew to become romantic affection, as natural as time and shared memories accumulated between them.

Since then, Jeno had witnessed Kwangsoo’s continuous journey onto an emotional downward spiral, whilst keeping it neutral as he continues to work for her. Kwangsoo hasn’t given her an answer yet, unsure if he’s ready to subject himself to more pain if he ever chooses to follow her. And Jeno doesn’t ask him, never thinks of asking the elder. His inner turmoil is enough and Jeno thinks the least he could do is just listen whenever the elder needs someone to talk to.

Including now. It just so happened that Jaemin tagged along, saying Nari won’t be staying over his place tonight meaning he’s allowed to get sloshed.

“They might listen though,” Jaemin says, evidently more sober than he was minutes ago, profile handsomely lit with the few lights inside the _pojamangcha_.

“This person—” Jaemin cuts himself, as if he’s thinking things properly before saying them out loud. “They might even possibly feel the same way, don’t you think?” The actor clicks his tongue.

“Isn’t that worth the risk?”

“But what if they don’t?” Jeno’s quick to ask. “What if they don’t feel the same way?”

Jaemin just looks at him, as if Jeno’s defiance had been something fascinating to him.

For the first time in the evening, the other tables are louder than theirs. Jeno thinks that if he listens closely, he might hear the gentle wind flapping against the plastic of their tent, the wind of change signifying the eventual arrival of autumn.

“Honesty isn’t always kindly rewarded,” Jeno finally says. If there’s one thing Jeno has learned, it’s that you can never completely know what goes on in the minds of people around you, even people you trust or chose to trust. And that the moment you’ve unpeeled too much of yourself, you risk getting hurt in the process, in the event that the person might not be on the same page as you. 

In Kwangsoo’s case, he’s afraid to lose Taeri’s friendship.

“He’s just saving himself from getting hurt,” Jeno adds. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Jaemin offers no retort as they both quietly watch the elder, who’s visibly shrunk into himself, face already covered with his palms as he fights the tears from coming.

He sounds miserable, whining from something that almost sounds like a physical kind of pain.

 _Liking someone is truly terrifying_ , Jeno concludes. 

They barely make it into the car parked from across the _pojamangcha_ alley. Kwangsoo’s height towers over them both as Jeno and Jaemin struggle to carry him, who’s still mumbling variations of _I think I should follow her, shouldn’t I?_ all the way to the car.

By the time the elder is comfortably leaning on the backseat, he becomes quieter, noises drowned by the engine roaring to life filling the interior of the car, on top of the awkward silence between Jaemin and Jeno carried from the conversation earlier.

It’s Jeno who breaks it with a “We don’t really have to go through with this.”

“Nonsense,” Jaemin easily says, throwing a cautious glance over his shoulder to look at their drunk passenger. “If I didn’t keep on throwing more fuel to the fire, he wouldn’t be this drunk.”

Jeno sees Jaemin’s point, eyes focused on the road ahead.

“And besides, we can’t find his apartment keys and you said Minjung noona would go berserk when we take him to your place in this state so…” Jeno could almost hear the grin forming on the actor’s lips. “My place is our safest choice.”

“You’re right,” Jeno says as he makes a right turn to Sam-il boulevard. Luckily enough, via SMS, Jeno had confirmed with Lia, one of the junior managers at Dreaming Ent hired last month, that Taeri doesn’t have a schedule for tomorrow so the elder can continue being dead to the world when Jeno takes him back with him tomorrow in the event that he still won’t remember where he left his keys.

“I promise you he won’t puke all over your place later.” He slows down, watching the forming traffic in front of them. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“I won’t,” their drunk passenger suddenly says as he shoots forward, hands braced on the headrests of Jeno’s and Jaemin’s seats. “I’m a mess but it doesn’t mean that I—” Jeno briefly turns to see Kwangsoo’s covering his mouth with both of his hands, as if to keep himself from puking.

“Hyung,” Jeno says exasperatedly, but before he could chastise him further, he sees Jaemin taking out something from the compartment.

“Here,” Jaemin says to the elder. There’s a sound of rustling paper before Jeno hears Kwangsoo’s outright vomiting, muffled—and as Jeno confirms with a glance—contained inside the brown paper bag he’s holding onto for dear life.

“Do you really love her that much, hyung?” Jaemin suddenly asks him pitifully.

Kwangsoo sounds as if he’s going to reply but instead, he doubles over, vomiting violently into the paper bag. Jaemin takes that as an answer and grabs a chunk of tissue paper from between his and Jeno’s seats. He hands them both to Kwangsoo saying “I might be getting ahead of myself and sound terribly biased but—” Jeno briefly sees Jaemin pursing his lips in thought before turning to the elder.

“I don’t think you should follow her, hyung.”

Jeno’s hands are still on the steering wheel as they arrive at an intersection, the stoplight turning red.

“She’s leaving to be with someone else, right?” Jaemin’s forehead creases. “I still think confessing is the first step in solving your problem and you still should, but…” Jaemin trails off as Jeno’s heart aches, mind supplying the start of the most heart-breaking winter that Jeno just wants to forget.

“If you’re not planning to say anything, then following her would only hurt you for sure.”

Low grunts fill the interior of the car and when Jeno turns to look at his cousin. Kwangsoo is pounding his right fist onto his chest as if to stop any pain that’s threatening to come out before moving onto hitting his head.

Jaemin stops him. The actor turns to grab his tumbler from the cup holder perched on the passenger door. He uncaps it and hands it to the elder. “She’ll understand if you won’t come to her, hyung.”

“But Jeno…” Kwangsoo starts, sending alarm bells to Jeno’s head because he already knows what direction this conversation is heading to. “Someone did that to Jeno and I—”

“Hyung,” Jeno calls out. “Not. Here.”

“I don’t want to do what _that person_ did to Jeno,” Kwangsoo blurts, seemingly stumbling on his words. “I don’t want to do that to Taeri.”

Jeno freezes. He looks at Jaemin to check the other’s reaction at Kwangsoo’s reveal. He’s surprised to find the other, not looking at Kwangsoo. Instead, he’s looking at him, at Jeno, with the gentlest expression on his face as if he’s scared that Jeno’s going to break.

Silence fills the car as the light turns green in Jeno’s periphery. He takes that as his cue to look back at the road and just focus gaze there for the rest of the ride.

“That person,” Kwangsoo says, slurring through his words. Jeno turns to head, outside, at the almost empty streets. He looks at anywhere but at Jaemin who’s gone awfully silent at the seat beside him. “That person broke Jeno and now—” Kwangsoo clicks his tongue as he makes a frustrated noise. “Jeno’s too broken to try again.”

Jeno wants to argue, and he could, but he doesn’t.

Jaemin gives Jeno two pairs of shirts and sweatpants the minute they arrive at his place.

Jeno suggests that the elder sleep on the guest room while Jeno, at the living room couch, already being familiar with it, from the last time he slept over. There’s an unreadable look that passes over Jaemin’s face before he nods in agreement.

When the actor volunteers to help Jeno with undressing the elder, Jeno smiles at him, telling him he’ll manage on his own. What Jeno gets in response is a smile that is not as radiant as Jaemin normally gives him, but still a genuine one nonetheless.

Jeno moves right down to business as Jaemin walks out of the guest room, door left open. Kwangsoo’s mostly cooperative, at least half-aware he’s being undressed, raising his arms when Jeno tries to remove his shirt. The elder’s arms remain outstretched as Jeno dresses him with a new one, a worn-out looking white 1988 Seoul Summer Olympics shirt. He then proceeds to undressing the elder’s pants, and dressing him with one of the black sweatpants, interestingly embroidered with Abidas on the side along its white lining. 

Jeno, then, washes briefly in the guest room’s bathroom before changing onto the remaining set of clothing: an also worn-out yellow shirt, also with the Abidas written on it and the other pair of black sweatpants, also embroidered with Abidas on the side.

Jeno’s about to leave the room when he hears the elder make a noise of protest, asking for water. Jeno sits down on the bed and grabs hold of the pitcher to pour water onto the glass, both of which must have been provided by Jaemin while Jeno was in the bathroom.

He watches the elder sit up and drink the entire glass empty. He’s already fetched the empty glass to put it on the bedside table when the elder mentions something nonsensical. “Did you say something, hyung?”

“You should try dating again, Jeno,” Kwangsoo says, facedown on the bed. “The new junior manager…”

Jeno squints. He wonders if he’s referring to—“Lia-ssi?”

“Yes, Lia-ssi,” The elder exclaims, index finger lazily pointing towards Jeno. “I heard she likes you.”

Jeno didn’t notice. “We’ve only talked twice since she started.”

Kwagsoo flops on his back, narrowing eyes at him. “You’re not interested? Is it because you don’t want to date a co-worker?”

“I’m just not looking for anyone at the moment,” Jeno says, properly adjusting the pillow under the elder’s head.

“But you never are!” Kwangsoo says defiantly, eyes already half-closed. “How about we ask Lia’s friends if you don’t want to—”

“There’s no need, hyung.” Jeno grins even if Kwangsoo can’t see. He wonders if his older cousin is just too drunk at the moment to remember that—

“I’m not interested in girls.” A sense of calmness washes over him as he says it. Jeno’s never fought it, the realization that he’s more into boys than girls. He’s not vocal about it but he doesn’t lie when asked. It’s one of the truths that he’s comfortably carrying with him even if it cost him his dream and his first love.

Kwangsoo mumbles one last noise of protest that sounds like an _okay_ before completely closing his eyes shut.

A knock at the door breaks Jeno’s reverie. Jaemin enters the room, eyes at the elder, as he drapes a comforter over him. Jeno looks away, wonders if Jaemin has heard the last bit of his conversation with Kwangsoo. 

While thinking of how to answer in case the latter asks about it, Jaemin calls his name.

“I cooked ramyun,” he says to Jeno, a careful expression on his face. “I cooked two.”

“I won’t tell,” Jaemin says as he sits down on the chair from across Jeno, placing the pot of ramyun on the coaster Jeno pulled out from the cabinets. The smell of ramyun fills the space between them. Jaemin moves to scoop into his bowl first. “I wasn’t supposed to know, anyways.”

Jeno guesses he should thank Jaemin for that but then again, he isn’t quite sure what secret the other is referring to with tonight being a series of revelations starting from Kwangsoo slipping up about Taeri.

Instead, he just smiles as Jaemin hands him the pot. They eat in silence for a few minutes, with only the sound of their chopsticks against their bowls before Jaemin speaks up again.

“I hope he makes the right decision.”

Jeno raises an eyebrow, gesturing for the pitcher of water near Jaemin. “What _is_ the right decision, exactly?”

He reaches for Jeno’s glass instead and pours water onto it himself. “I don’t know.” His mouth hardens. “The one that’ll hurt less I guess?” A crease forms in his forehead. “I’m still all for confessing before cutting ties but if he won’t confess, then by all means following her is off the table.” 

He hands Jeno his glass as he further adds, “I don’t think I can take seeing her happy if I were in hyung’s shoes.” Jeno takes the glass and drinks, watching Jaemin warily as he does so. “Is that too selfish?”

“But hey—” Jaemin slurps some of the broth when he mumbles, “I’ve never really been in love to actually have a say in this matter.”

Jeno stills, unconsciously pointing his chopsticks towards the other. “Doesn’t Saerom—”

“Saerom is a friend at most,” Jaemin says as he slides two packets of seaweed strips to Jeno. “And I’ve come to love her, mostly because I would literally not survive raising Nari without her but—” He tears open a packet of seaweed and munches on it, a pensive look on his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in love in the same way that Kwangsoo hyung is.”

Jeno laughs bitterly as he tears open one of the packets Jaemin slid over. “It’s awful.” He takes the entire strip out, breaking it in half, chewing on one as he murmurs “I don’t recommend it.”

“Well, dramas, and the countless love songs playing on the radio beg to disagree,” Jaemin challenges, lacking any bite. Jeno dips the other half of his strip on his ramyun, a habit he picked up from living off on instant ramyun as a trainee. Dejun comes to mind, for the second time that night. Jeno takes it as a sign, to offer more honesty to the table, thinking he might as well share more of himself—mainly, the past he’s been trying to shake off for years not yet still lingering at the recesses of his mind.

“I’ve been in love once,” he starts to say. “Like me, he came all the way to Seoul because he wanted to be an idol.”

“Is it that Mark Lee fellow?”

“No,” Jeno grins as he shakes his head. A strange sensation of lightness fills his chest as he takes in the image of an attentive Jaemin from across him. It makes him take out his phone and type _Neo Culture Xiaojun_ on the Naver search bar. He then slides his phone to Jaemin saying “His name’s Xiao Dejun but now he’s called Xiaojun.”

“Oh,” is Jaemin’s only answer as he scrolls further down the results as if he’s cataloguing Jeno’s first love into his memory.

When he hands the phone back to Jeno, he asks, “Is he a good dancer, too?”

“He’s okay then but I can only imagine what he’s like now but—” Jeno pauses to scratch at his nape which feels warmer. “He sings _really_ well.”

“Tolerably attractive face and sings well,” Jaemin comments with nonchalance. “Anything else?”

Jeno doesn’t resist the chuckle escaping his throat. Jaemin is not laughing, however, and only watches Jeno as he gathers himself.

“I always admired how he rarely cried, even after being told countless times how he isn’t ready to debut just quite yet,” Jeno shares shamelessly, surprising himself how easy it is to tell Jaemin this. He picks up his chopstick again and eats a handful of noodles. “Maybe that’s why I liked him more than the others.” The broth in his bowl has turned cold. “I don’t know. None of that matters now.”

“Doesn’t it? When you’re still hung up on him?”

“Not really,” Jeno says before carefully telling a brief summary of how his first love began and how it met its demise. Through all of it, Jaemin just quietly listens to him. By the end of his story, Jeno feels even lighter than before, wondering why it’s so _easy_ to tell Jaemin something he’d never told anyone else in detail before. And underneath it all, there’s an undercurrent of a feeling he’s yet to name.

“Do you think he still likes you?

“I don’t know,” Jeno says honestly, putting down his chopsticks to open one more packet of seaweed strip. “Like I said, none of it matters now.”

“But what would you do if he’d ask to meet up with you and I don’t know, rekindle what you had?” Jaemin seems so serious and Jeno doesn’t understand why that is so. “Would you say yes?”

Jeno thinks about it, thinks about it hard. There’s only hurt when he thinks of Dejun now. Only hurt and betrayal for not even having the courage to tell it straight to his face _No, Jeno, I’m sorry but I can’t choose you._

“No. I won’t,” he finally says. Suddenly his throat feels funny, as if he’s been wanting to say that and never just given a chance to let it out. “Besides, I can just say no if Yangyang tries to ask me to see them. 

Jaemin looks at him, as if to study the weight of his response.

“Well, in the event that you _do need_ backup,” Jaemin starts. “And you can’t get out of it—” Jaemin points his chopsticks at Jeno “—Call me.”

“Jaemin-ah—”

“I’m serious,” Jaemin says with conviction, before making a show of sipping the broth empty from his bowl. He puts the bowl down, wiping the remnants of ramyun off of his lips before looking at Jeno with determination.

And there it is again, cloaking Jeno comfortably, that feeling from earlier.

“This guy broke your heart and I think you deserve better.”

_Safety._

“You deserve the best, Jeno.”

Jeno can only look at the other wordlessly before they continue to finish the ramyun in silence. To ensure that Jaemin won’t be in his space any much longer, he insists in doing the dishes by himself to which Jaemin easily agrees with.

By the time he’s finished with the dishes, he turns off the light and proceeds to the living room couch and curls in on himself. It’s completely quiet outside around him but Jeno can’t help but toss and turn from where he’s lying. The butterflies in his stomach are a wreck and he’s already certain that sleep will elude him for the night.

Still, he closes his eyes, as he lies on his side, facing the couch. When he thinks his heart has settled down, he hears footsteps making their way towards him.

He remains still as a comforter is draped over him.

Like a thief in the night, Jaemin retreats back to his room, robbing Jeno of his sleep and something else that Jeno thought he’d never be feeling again.

  
  


Jeno does manage to get some sleep eventually, waking up to the sound of footsteps in the kitchen.

Its owner is Jaemin, of course, who smiles at him, all handsome and bright—as if he’s guiltless of Jeno’s restlessness.

 _Good mornings_ and _How was your sleep_ are exchanged as Jeno helps Jaemin make breakfast. Jeno’s delegated to chopping duty, taking note of Jaemin’s instructions in slicing the potatoes, carrots, onions and bell pepper for the _gamja bokkeum_ they’re making. Meanwhile, Jaemin sits from across him, chopping off the ends of the garlic cloves, and then slicing them into smaller chunks for his very own version of a _manul changachi_.

Sunlight spills into the room as they continue to work alongside each other in silence. Jeno’s heart is no longer as restless as it was, with his mind somehow focused on getting tasks done for their humble breakfast.

Jeno’s heating the rice Jaemin has left when Kwangsoo pads over the dining room to join them.

The table’s already laden with plates, coasters, chopsticks, _gamja bokkeum_ and _manul changachi_ and the three sunny side up eggs Jaemin just finished cooking when Kwangsoo speaks up, surprisingly with more resolve than expected for someone who just woke up.

“I made up my mind.”

Both Jaemin and Jeno pause from where they’re standing.

“I’m not going after her.”

Jeno watches the corner of Jaemin’s lips curl upward in what seems to be relief.

“Good for you, hyung,” Jaemin says as he sits down, reaching for Kwangsoo’s empty bowl. Kwangsoo and Jeno follow suit and sit down too, watching the actor scoop from the pot of heated rice onto Kwangsoo’s empty bowl before handing it back to him. “What better way to celebrate your decision than with a meal, right?”

When Kwangsoo smiles at Jaemin, Jaemin returns it with a muted smile, that is not as blinding as one of his performative smiles but not any less true as Jeno’s learned after working with the actor for the past couple of months.

Jeno’s not prepared, however, when Jaemin catches him staring and disarms him with a penetrative gaze that softens into a smile that takes his breath away.

He looks away before he chokes on the food he’s eating. He thinks he looks stupid, somehow, but immediately wonders why would it matter so much to Jaemin who’s nothing short of patient and understanding and just overall, really really sweet.

Their breakfast goes on lightly. There’s Kwangsoo, clearly with renewed energy and sense of purpose and there’s Jaemin and his usual easygoing attitude. And then, there’s Jeno.

Jeno, who’s baffled as to why it comes as a surprise to him, this fondness hitting him like a ten-wheeler truck in the dead of the night. It’s a feeling he’s felt before, but all different at the same time, as if it’s something new.

Because, really.

Jaemin is just so _easy_ to like.

He spends most of the breakfast listening and agreeing, commenting when he’s needed especially on Jaemin’s upcoming schedule, including the thick draft of script for a cable drama that Jaemin’s seriously considering auditioning for. He also pitches in about Minjung’s suggestion of shaping Jaemin’s social media presence which Jaemin welcomes with an appreciative nod saying he’s definitely looking forward to meeting her, some way, somehow.

But when Jeno’s not actively participating, he’s looking away, outside, where he’s able to clear his mind when looking at Jaemin just gets _too much_.

Outside, he sees the wind weaving through the leaves of the trees in the front yard. He watches them with a strange sense of peace, accompanied by the growing feeling he knows won’t be leaving anytime soon.

Fall has finally begun.

_Seoul, present day_

  
  


“Noona,” Jeno calls out to the kitchen as he puts on his shoes. “We’re leaving, okay?”

Even from the living room, the smell of the Lee women’s infamous seaweed soup recipe is still so strong, with Minjung getting a little too fond of it for the past week.

“Text me if you need anything and I’ll get them on my way home.”

“She can’t hear you,” Chaera comments as she stands to her full height. She nudges Jeno towards the door. But “See you next week eomma!” leaves her lips anyways as they step outside.

Jeno’s about to comment on it when his phone vibrates like clockwork. He unlocks his phone, feels himself smiling on autopilot. “Good morning, Jaemin-ah.”

It’s a habit of theirs. Starting their days with a casual exchange before delving into Jaemin’s schedule for the day. It used to just be a weekday thing or just during days when Jeno’s supposed to report for work. But one time, Jaemin makes the mistake of calling him on a weekend and honestly, Jeno didn’t see the harm in it. So even if Jaemin’s quick to apologize and offer ending the call, Jeno reassured him that it’s completely fine. Jaemin’s the texting type, but he’s really more of a calling type, Jeno learns, insisting that some things are better understood when spoken.

“Yes, I’m on my way but I’m dropping Chaera off first,” Jeno says as he puts his phone on the phone holder perched just a little below the air-conditioner to his right. “I’m putting you on speaker now, Jaemin-ah.”

“Hello, Jaemin-oppa,” Chaera calls out sweetly. “Please tell Nari to drop by again soon.” Jeno’s making a turn, vaguely aware of Chaera’s dimpled grin. “We miss her.”

“Only her?”

The scoff Chaera lets out is harmless. It earns a boisterous cackle from Jaemin. And for the first few minutes, it’s just Chaera asking Jaemin about things on how he prepares prior filming and how he manages interaction with people in general since Jaemin’s job does require him to utilize his energy well being more often than not 100% under public scrutiny. Chaera’s listening to each word with interest and thanks Jaemin for entertaining each of her questions.

Then she’s turning to Jeno as they reach an intersection and says “He’s all yours.”

“Happy to be of service,” Jaemin singsongs, unaware of how the back of Jeno’s neck feel warm. “You heard her, Jeno. Let’s read lines, shall we?”

There’s rustling of paper from the other end of the line before he adds, “I’m all yours.”

Jeno hears Chaera chortle but pays her no mind as he turns the air conditioning up.

“I need a favor.” Chaera’s face is serious as they arrive at Majeon Middle School.

Jeno watches her take out a DVD from her backpack. “Here.”

It’s a DVD for _In a Heartbeat_. Jeno sees the text on the lowermost part of the DVD cover that says directed by Johnny Seo. “Oh.”

“If you could ask Seo kamdongnim to sign it,” Chaera begins. “It will mean the world to me.”

He looks at her for a moment but turns to inspect the DVD again. “Who’s this for?” Of the twins, it’s Bongju who’s mentioned to liking Seo kamdongnim’s works before but Chaera was never vocal about it. “So, I can say who it’s supposed to be dedicated to.”

“Songhwa,” she whispers. “My girlfriend—” Chaera cuts herself off, probably noticing how Jeno’s hands stilled on the DVD. “—technically, she isn’t my girlfriend yet but I’m working on it.”

“Wow,” Jeno says, looking at Chaera as if he’s never seen her before. “Our Chaera’s all grown up,”

“Songhwa watched _In a Heartbeat_ and decided she wanted to be a doctor. Movies are the only thing we have in common so I just wanted—”

“Ddaeng,” Jeno blurts out. “Doesn’t liking each other count? As something you have in common.”

Chaera scoffs, more caught-off guard than annoyed. “I suppose so.”

“So, she likes you too, then?”

“I hope so,” Chaera answers, eyes gleaming. “If she says yes, then we have one more year together before I enter SOPA.”

“Jung Chaera,” Jeno pipes, feeling prouder with every second. Chaera’s always wanted to sing but never figured out yet if she’s more into being an idol or learning classical for theatre. But she’s always been sure she wanted to pursue singing professionally. Jeno envies her. “You got everything in your life figured out.”

“Not everything,” she replies, a little timidly, eyeing the DVD in Jeno’s hand.

“Does noona know?”

Chaera shakes her head.

“When will you tell her?”

“When will you tell Jaemin oppa?”

“Wow, you’re good.”

“It runs in the family,” she tells him with a small grin. “Clearly.”

His phone vibrates with a new message, the notification sound reverberating from the car’s speakers.

It’s a text from Jongin that says _I’m leaving the house right now. See you! ^_^_

Chaera gets off of the car as Jeno starts replying. When Jeno hits _Send_ , Chaera is there, standing outside, by the driver’s side, bag and umbrella on-hand, ready to bid his uncle farewell.

“Is noona gonna be okay?” Jeno idly wonders. “She was about to lecture me earlier but she kept on going to the restroom over and over.”

“I already texted appa,” Chaera placates him. “He said she just had too much seaweed soup from last night. And well, earlier, too. She has the strangest—”

“What if I just go home and—”

“Lemme just—” Chaera types on her phone quickly, eyes widening the next moment. “Oh, wow, okay.”

She shows her phone screen to Jeno. “Here.” It’s her thread with Minjung that starts with Chaera asking _How are you feeling, eomma?_ to which Minjung replied with _No. I can’t give you an early allowance. But I’m fine. Why?_

“See? She’s perfectly okay, oppa,” Chaera deadpans. “So go. Don’t keep SM waiting.”

“But I’m just—”

Chaera cuts him off with a peck on his cheek. When they were young, Chaera and Bongju often did that as thanks to Jeno for carrying them. Now, they mostly just use it to derail him from saying anything they think they wouldn’t like.

“As usual, take lots of pics of Gangneung for us.” Chaera’s smiling triumphantly as she starts walking backwards, away from Jeno and towards the gates of her alma mater. “Have fun today, oppa!”

“At your places,” the sunglasses-clad kamdongnim instructs from her megaphone. The sun overhead is up so high, bright and blinding but does nothing to deter her fire. “Music, please!”

 _Oasis_ booms from the sound system just near them, outside the frame of the sandy shores of Gyeongpo being filmed with a couple of cameras for Neo Culture’s comeback music video.

Jeno and Jongin had arrived a little past the entire crew’s early lunch. Jeno wasn’t able to exchange anything than further _Hellos_ and _Glad you could come_ with Yangyang who’s quickly sent to wardrobe and makeup for today’s shoot. Jisoo, the bubbly AD for today’s shoot, was the one who welcomed them and offered them packed sandwiches in case Jeno and Jongin wanted to eat their lunch watching the shoot from the pine trees lining the dock to the shores of the white sand beach.

Apparently, it’s already their second to the last day in Gyeongpo, and their last official day of filming, with tomorrow merely reserved for other additional or corrective shots that needed to be taken in case their kamdongnim wanted more footage to use.

Every one who’s part of the dance is wearing a white shirt, with varying cuts and sleeves—some without—matched with mostly light shades of denim pants. Jeno and Jongin finish their sandwiches over the first run of the song, just as all the dancers jump in sync with what seems to be the big finale. It’s a different ending to what Jeno and Jongin originally choreographed, one of the few bits that have been altered to supposedly fit the flash-mob style that they’re going for in this music video. Yangyang had texted him earlier this week that they’ve actually closed off the majority of the beach for this shoot.

It’s such an ambitious set-up for a performance, but one which Jeno’s thankful for, vaguely reminded that with more people, he’s more likely less to spot Dejun easily.

 _Ah, yes,_ Jeno thinks sardonically. _Delaying the inevitable._

Before more self-deprecating thoughts flood his mind, he focuses on the towering figure moving from member to member, quite probably to explain some adjustments for how they will be shooting their parts.

Their kamdongnim for today’s shoot is formerly a full-time choreographer who was also eventually absorbed by SM as one of its dance instructors.

“Ha Yves,” Jongin coolly comments, as they watch the kamdongnim carefully watching the shoot through one of the cameras up front, occasionally saying something to their cameraman. A grin forms on Jongin’s lips as he further adds, “IDC got to compete against her crew once before—” Jongin crosses his arms when he notices Jeno raising an eyebrow, “—It’s from way back before, even before you joined.” He perches his hand on Jeno’s shoulder, inching closer so Jeno can hear him better. “We lost but—” he directs his lips to the commanding height of Yves kamdongnim as she walks towards Mark’s spot to demonstrate how the camera will approach his group for their closeup. “It was a triumphant defeat.”

Jongin’s too focused on telling Jeno more stories about the kamdongnim when Jeno catches her looking straight at them. “Hyung, I think—”

“Hello, again,” Jisoo calls out to them, rushing over, pointing to Yves kamdongnim. “Unni wanted to ask if you’d be okay with joining the shoot.” Jisoo grins, eyes forming crescents as she pleads. “We’re apparently short by two more dancers as per her vision and thought maybe since you choreographed this all then maybe you’d be okay with—”

“We’re not dressed for the occasion though,” Jongin reasons quickly, hands waving over his and Jeno’s clothes. His face spelled amusement from the mere offer to join the shoot impulsively.

“No worries,” Jisoo chirps out, index finger pointing something to their far right. A few pine trees away from them is what looks like a tent, whose entrance is partially opened, displaying the racks of white clothing and denims, similar to what everyone on the shoot is wearing. “We’ve got a few more extra clothes with us.”

“I don’t know,” Jongin says, unconsciously scratching the back of his ear. He’s finally turning to Jeno for help, aware that the longer they spend thinking about joining is more time wasted for the entire crew. Jeno knows this, of course, perfectly familiar with how time is precious for shoots that are following a strict schedule. “This is a little too sudden and we’re really only supposed to watch…”

Jongin is saying one thing but Jeno reads something completely different from his body language.

The warning bells should have rung by now, Jeno thinks. It’s one thing to watch friends you used to train with dance but to dance with said friends is an entirely different thing.

Something Jeno thought he’d never have to be confronted with.

Until now.

From the corner of his eye, he sees Yangyang walking towards Yves. And even if they’re too far for Jeno to hear what Yangyang’s about to say, Jeno’s sure it is in his defense, to keep Jeno from dancing with them, just because he’s probably the person most familiar with the events surrounding Jeno’s personal destruction. Yangyang really is the nicest friend Jeno ever had, Jeno concludes.

 _Do you really want to run away?_ is what Yangyang had asked him on the day that Jeno made his decision. It’s such a random memory that makes Jeno smile to himself, suddenly knowing that maybe some baggage doesn’t have to remain baggage forever.

“Let’s do it, hyung,” Jeno announces. 

Jisoo and Jongin turn to him, Jongin, wide-eyed, with more concern than he’s ever seen the elder display towards him before.

Jeno briefly turns to take in the expanse of the clear azure rivaling the vast blue sky up above. He’s still got his sandals on, but he already feels his toes curling at the sensation of sand licking at his feet, almost as if he’s back home, in the white sandy shores of Gimnyeong or the golden sands of Gwakji that slope gently towards the sea.

He turns back towards the elder, feels the edges of his lips curve up, excited at the thought of dancing, an excitement that never really dies and instead just always waits patiently until plucked out by Jeno, himself.

“Let’s do it.”

They film in parts, with Yves—she wanted the _kamdongnim_ title dropped the moment Jeno spoke to her, bowing to Jongin who according to her is a senior she’s respected—being so hands-on, surprising Jeno with how she can command the entire ensemble, with just enough air of authority but balanced with her approachability.

Jeno had mentioned this briefly to Jaemin in his short message that says _Guess what. Jongin hyung and I are joining them on the MV. It’s a little…scary. Or the kamdongnim is a little scary but she’s friendly? But I will let you know how it goes later._ Jisoo had walked past him and Jongin then reminding them to keep their phones to their bags which will be guarded accordingly seeing as it’s in everyone’s interest to film everything without distractions.

As they finish filming the first stanza, Jeno spots Dejun, in the far corner of his eye. He makes the mistake of looking in the other’s direction, tempted to see if it’s really the first boy he loved.

Dejun’s eyes lit up for a moment, before turning somber, seemingly confused on how to act around Jeno, even if there are more than twenty people separating them.

Jeno quickly averts his gaze, and finds Jongin instead just to his near right. Jongin’s talking to the other dancers beside him, and a very excited Mark, who they found out to be who suggested that Jongin cameo in the music video.

“ _We didn’t expect for Yves noona to include you, too,_ ” Mark had said earlier. Yangyang smiled at him then, apologetic, offering a way out even as he took in Jeno’s white shirt and denim pants. “ _You don’t have to do this, Jeno, really._ ”

Jeno had only smiled back, not knowing where the calmness in him comes from as he replied with “ _It wouldn’t be so bad to dance with you guys again.”_

“So, you’re the Jeno that Yangyang had always mentioned,” a voice next to him utters. Jeno turns to the owner of the voice just as he hears Yves directing a group for their closeup for the refrain. “I joined just a month after you uh—” the stranger cuts himself off, cheeks tinting of red, takes away his hand just on the verge of shaking Jeno’s. He mindlessly picks on his hair, careful not to ruin its styling.

“I’m sorry I’m rambling. It’s just that I’ve always thought that I was your replacement.”

“Oh.” That’s new. Jeno’s never heard this before. He feels guilty for not paying attention more to Nari when she fawns over Neo Culture, thinking he must’ve met all the members of the group at least once as a trainee. “What would you want me to call you?”

“Felix,” the stranger answers, smiling as he does so. “You can call me Yongbok, too.”

There’s an ugly voice in his head that wants to say _You can’t be replaced if you were never promised a slot in the first place_. Instead, Jeno offers his hand to the other, thanking his luck that he at least knows which part is sung by who, and thus by elimination he could tell that—“You’re singing the bridge, right? And singing alongside Mark hyung just before the second chorus?”

Felix puts a hand to his chest, seemingly touched with Jeno knowing his parts. “Thank you,” he says in English, shaking Jeno’s hand. “I don’t even know what I’m thanking you for. Just. Yeah.”

“Wow, your English is great, too,” Jeno comments in Korean, not confident enough to apply whatever he’s recently learned in years of working as Jaemin’s manager.

“Actually,” Felix fiddles with his hands, smiling cheekily, reminding Jeno of Jisung somehow. “I’m from Australia. So, it’s my Korean that I’m worried about.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, your Korean is fine, too.”

Just like that any ice that might have been there is broken. Jeno can’t help but glance towards Dejun’s direction once more, thinking if the other speaks better Korean now. It doesn’t last more than a minute, with Jeno thinking how sad it kind of is, for him to be the only one nostalgic about things that don’t really matter anymore.

Conversation easily flows between him, Felix and their group in between takes, that Jeno wondered why he would even need to be worried about joining in the first place.

And even if numerous position changes have been made from the first stanza up to the spoken bridge just before the last choruses, Jeno’s never found himself dancing towards Dejun or vice versa, which in Jeno’s book really is already a triumph in itself.

Until the chorus after the bridge, that is.

As Yves instructed, everyone in the ensemble except the members is to move around in a frenzy, changing places with each other in what looks like organized chaos as they clap their hands to the beat of the song. The camera’s then supposed to capture a wide shot of the entire ensemble doing what Jeno self-proclaims the point dance of this entire choreography: the fountain of arms.

There’s no preparing for it once Yves yells _Action_.

One moment, he’s living in the moment, feeling the sun on his skin as he waltzes from one spot to the next before finding himself directly beside Dejun. There’s no time to dwell on it, however, with the shot running continuously until the end of the song, where they’re all supposed to run towards the sea, ending the video in a frozen frame of jump shots of varying levels against the picturesque sea.

“And cut!” Yves says, leading the clapping for everyone present on set. “That’s a wrap, everyone. Great job, all of you!”

There’s boisterous cheering for everyone, with most people already absorbed in feeling the water on their bare feet, and then to running around and pushing each other into the glittering blue sea.

Jeno finds himself smiling, even if he’s not joining the celebration just yet, too focused on the feeling of the water lapping at his feet, a welcome contrast to the harsh sun beating against his back. Before he knows it, he’s closing his eyes, strangely attuned to the gentle waves ahead crashing onto the shore in almost a soft whisper.

“Look out, Jeno!” is what Jeno hears, making him open his eyes just in time for Dejun to try and push him away. He fails however, as they both get completely drenched with water hitting them both violently.

Jeno could have fallen on his knees, but Dejun’s holding him, strong and steady. Before he could even react at the sudden contact of skin, they’re getting drenched again, coupled with what sounds to be maniacal laughter from Yangyang and Mark combined.

“You’ll pay for—” he tries to shout only to be muffled by harsh splashes of water. Once he gets the chance, he returns the favor, bending down to exert force in pushing water towards them. It’s the beginning of an endless fight that is as harmless as it is violent. Somehow, along the way, he thinks he hears more laughing, some from his friends, some from himself. His chest is warm and at peace despite the chaos going on around them.

There’s nothing else to describe this feeling but _carefree,_ Jeno thinks _._

He’s completely drenched from head to toe when he manages to open his eyes to the sight of the sun blinding him overhead, and the smiles from the people he used to dream with.

  
  
  


**officialha_yves** ✔

[PHOTO POST: Groups of people having fun at the beach. Photo is too candid that the faces of the people cannot be easily identified, even those in front.] 

Liked by **official_sun** and **2,540 others**

 **officialha_yves** Summer has arrived! 😉

View all 59 comments

28m ago

**Comments**

**leeminhyuj** Going to go fERAL IS THAT NEO CULTURE’S MARK, YANGYANG AND XIAOJUN?????

27m

 **pharmarkcy** Summer never existed before NEO CULTURE’S COMEBACK. Nuff said.

20m

 **baobeiyangyang** I’m 10000000000% positive that’s Liu Yangyang. And Mark. And Xiaojun. The others might be somewhere at the back????? But who’s that with them?

9m

It’s almost sunset when Jeno wakes up from his rest.

The bed next to him is empty, apart from Jongin’s bag that surprisingly fits enough clothes for him to stay overnight. It had been another impulsive invitation, this time directly by Yangyang and Mark—and maybe to some extent, Dejun, too—for Jeno and Jongin to stay until their last day at Gyeongpo which will mostly be spent on seeing the sights all over Gangneung, that will most probably be documented as a part of Neo Culture’s growing vlogging series, Neo Minute. It’s why the local officials have granted SM complete access to Gyeongpo—a fair trade to SM’s promise to promote Gangneung handsomely via official content.

Some time, as they were drying up after the high of finishing filming, Mark had mentioned the last on their itinerary for the day—a short stroll to one of the famous cafés in Gangneung, which happened to be co-managed by someone that Mark previously dated. Mark, being Mark, had kept in touch with this not-quite ex and gladly accepted the invitation to come over for free drinks.

Jongin had smoothly said that he’d surely come with Mark, to which Mark reacted with much surprise and gratitude, saying how Jongin’s such a keeper and instantly becoming one of Mark’s favorite people. Yangyang and Dejun commented then how Mark could have just not accepted the offer in the first place to avoid any awkwardness altogether. When the bickering died down, they all turned to Jeno, who’s bent over scrolling through his inbox, reading an email he’s just received from one of the marketing representatives of a famous beverage brand that Jaemin has signed with.

 _“Are you joining us for coffee, Jeno?”_ is what Yangyang had asked him but it’s Dejun’s waiting gaze that struck Jeno speechless for a few moments. When his phone vibrates again, notifying him of a new email, Jeno clears his throat before offering the sincerest apologetic grin he can. _“How about I’ll join you for dinner? Something just came up.”_

It turned out that the beverage brand’s side is requesting for an extension of Jaemin’s contract with them. Jeno settled it over a slightly lengthy phone call saying that they’d feel much better with a renewal with their proposed revisions which the brand will of course have to review. Jaemin, at this point in his career, is more well-sought after than when he initially signed with said beverage brand and as of the moment, other more handsome packages have been sent to them from other competitors. Jeno wouldn’t have Jaemin switch to another brand instantly, of course, weighing the options of staying for the sake of maintaining good relations with a brand that had already been kind to Jaemin from the get-go.

The marketing representative notes Jeno’s suggestion and communicates that they’ll get back to them once a decision has been made.

 _Good_ , Jeno thinks. It means it’ll buy him enough time to talk it over with Jaemin and walk him through the pros and cons of staying with said brand.

Jeno’s always keen on keeping Jaemin’s best interests at heart, after all. 

He’s about to stand up and stretch for a bit when his phone vibrates from where it’s lying on the table just beside the sliding door. He gets up to pick it up haphazardly, taking it with him as he slides the door to walk into the porch outside, which gives a perfect picturesque view of the sea.

He takes a seat on one of the recliners, unlocking his phone as he does so. There’s only one missed call and one LINE message and both are from Jaemin. The message is short and dry—by Jaemin’s standards— _Hiiiiii. Just finished filming. I’m sorry. How’s Gyeongpo?_

Before he knows what he’s doing, Jeno’s already typing a reply, feels himself smiling as he tries to formulate the peacefulness he thinks he just attained with the odd series of circumstances that have happened earlier. _Better than I thought. Now I feel like I got scared for nothing._

 _Oh. That’s great to hear, then._ is the reply he gets not long after. Jeno’s not one to assume anything but then again, being well-versed in Jaemin speak is almost like second-nature to him now so he definitely feels as if something’s up with the actor.

So, he replies with a friendly _Did something happen? How was filming earlier?_

The three dots appear indicating Jaemin typing his next response but then it stops. There’s nothing for a few more seconds before a reply finally arrives.

_It went well. The crew misses you. I miss you._

It’s funny how such a sentence elicits a snort from Jeno who’s mostly quiet on set whenever he’s around, only responds when spoken to, but is most of the time monitoring Jaemin for when he’ll need something. A simple nod with a reassuring smile goes a long way for the actor, Jeno’s learned. And he’d like to keep on being able to do that, for as long as he’s still able to, as Jaemin’s manager.

The conversation goes on with only the shortest replies from Jaemin and more prolonged typing time for the other, making Jeno wonder where the actor might be at the moment if filming for the day has already finished earlier than expected. He’s about to ask Jaemin just that but another message from Jaemin arrives.

_I have something to tell you._

The three dots appear again for a moment before the next message.

_Where are you right now?_

Jeno types the name of the inn he’s staying at first but then thinks ahead and deletes it and replies with _About to have dinner later at Chiaroscuro_ . _It’s a local restaurant along the dock of Gyeongpo._

Jeno’s about to ask _Why_ but Jaemin’s quick to send a resolute, conversation-ending _Okay. Duly noted._

Strange, Jeno thinks. But Jaemin’s always been strange sometimes.

Jeno puts his phone face down next to him, and turns his attention to the sea, with the sun already dipping behind the horizon, with only a faint amount of daylight lingering as though it had been accidentally left behind when his mind replays something he hadn’t paid attention to just now.

_I miss you._

The night is young as Yves led everyone into a toast for finishing the filming right on schedule.

 _Chiaroscuro_ is wild with energy with Yves and one of the crew members—who Jeno remembers to be one of the cameramen—heading towards the stage, seemingly set-up for open mic night, which Yangyang confirms to be a regular thing at the beachfront restaurant on ordinary days of business.

 _My Ear’s Candy_ starts blasting from the speakers scattered all over the restaurant’s vicinity, with Yves and the cameramen—whose name is Dalpo—belting out the song in a manner that makes one think if they actually filmed for most of the day earlier with their energy still seemingly at an all-time high.

Meanwhile, in the table Jeno’s a part of, it has been a nostalgia-fest with Yangyang, Mark, Dejun and surprisingly, Felix. Jongin also sat at their table, rubbing elbows with Mark who has become a little too giggly after just a couple of drinks. The other Neo Culture members—who Jeno learns have joined SM months later after Felix did— whose names are pasted on chairs scattered at all the other tables. Felix leaves their table at one point too, after being coerced into singing on stage. Originally, it was discouraged for the members to sing, with the crew members saying it’s a little bit unfair with them being already established idols and all, but somehow after a couple of more drinks—courtesy of Mark—the showdown became a fair game, with the stage being open for all.

Roughly an hour later, Jeno finds himself pulled to the stage by an excited Yangyang, following Mark and Dejun who had volunteered to perform as a group. It would have been the worst idea, really, for Jeno to stand on the same stage as them—even if it’s merely just an elevated platform. It’s still a stage, and it’s still a performance with whom he used to train with, in the old sky-wallpapered training rooms of SM.

But the moment DBSK’s Hug starts playing, there’s only the happier nostalgic feeling blanketing him comfortably.

Dejun starts the song, as he always did, reminding Jeno of the vocalist he admired from the get-go, even before he got to know him and fell in love. He’s become an even stronger vocalist now, singing with much more confidence and stability, even more than Jeno thought was possible.

Jeno’s also happy to discover that Mark and Yangyang improved in their singing, too, always being somehow aware of it when he catches their voices on the songs Nari plays at the car sometimes. But hearing their improvement up close makes Jeno feel prouder than ever. 

He’s grinning too much that he almost forgot his cue: Yunho’s part in the second stanza. It’s Dejun who opens his part for him, lips on its way into a grin as he nudges Jeno on the elbow.

Jeno’s not the best singer—not by a long shot—but if there’s one song, he still can sing by heart, it’s _this_.

He’ll always know it, even after all these years of walking away from this life that once was his.

After a couple more drinks, six members of Neo Culture break into a very rowdy rendition of Super Junior’s _Sorry Sorry_ , leaving only Dejun and Jeno on their table.

Panic slowly bubbles up Jeno’s throat and he tries to fight it by picking on the chicken wing on his plate. Jeno considers his option, if he can go to other tables. He wonders if Jisoo’s table has more room when he hears coughing up-close.

It’s Dejun, of course. He’s always the first one to talk, as he always did from a time when Jeno spoke even less.

“I can go,” he says, evidently sounding as sober as Jeno is. “To another table, if you don’t—” He bites on his lip. 

_No, this can’t happen,_ Jeno thinks. Jeno’s the guest here. Or the intruder, if that’s how Dejun sees him.

“No,” Jeno replies. “Nobody has to go.” He keeps his gaze back on the chicken wing, mildly reminded of how differently it’s cooked from how Minjung does it, or from how Jaemin does it that one time when—

A sigh breaks his train of thought. Jeno looks up, hoping that Dejun had let it go and decided to just watch the rest of his members on stage. He isn’t.

Dejun looks so uncomfortable, and Jeno feels it too, because _how exactly do you talk to someone who used to be your entire world?_ Well, in Jeno’s case, that is.

“Didn’t think you’d go blonde,” Jeno comments.

There’s a vague memory of him and Dejun walking along Myeongdong with Dejun pointing to shop signs and posters of celebrities. Dejun had been firm then, stomping his foot on the asphalt as he claimed that blonde would never be a good look on him. Jeno had only laughed at him, assured him that he’d look good in whatever color the company decides for him. Dejun stopped in his tracks from where he’s walking slightly ahead of Jeno and turns back to him, faced amused and fond at the same time when he says, “ _I think I fell in love with you a little more._ ”

“Or have you changed your mind about hair colors?”

Anxiety sizzles in the pit of Jeno’s stomach as silence hangs between them, with Jeno suddenly reprimanding himself why he ever thought of such a conversation topic.

Dejun breaks into laughter, making their table a little more alive with each shake of his shoulders. Jeno feels his chest lighten, relieved his efforts won’t go in vain.

“One of our stylist noonas said I had the jawline for it,” Dejun explains, combing his fingers through his hair as he says so. “I tried to hold my ground but the members and I played rock paper scissors and—”

“You lost,” Jeno supplies, lips curling upwards without meaning to. “It’s because you always throw paper first and Mark hyung and Yangyang are of course more than familiar with that at this point.”

“Ya.” Dejun crosses his arms, expression turning sulky. “Because you always throw rock first, it’s just muscle memory to me that you’ll always lose to my paper.”

Jeno feels a small grin tug on his lips. Dejun sounds as petty as he did years back. It’s so strange, Jeno thinks, how his mind mostly focused on the hurt that marked his last days as an idol trainee, conveniently wiping away all the happier memories he’s had in the months—years prior to his exit.

But now, they’re floating back to the surface, and it should hurt. It should hurt him badly.

“Jeno.”

But it doesn’t.

“Hm?”

So far.

“I’m sorry.”

It’s short, simple. But it’s what Jeno has longed to hear on that one fateful day in winter.

“I know, hyung” Jeno says. “I know.”

Almost ten people crowd the stage—including Yangyang, Mark and Dejun—as they belt out a raucous rendition of SM soloist Taeyeon’s If when Jaemin calls him.

“Jaemin?” The cheers from the crowd are growing louder that Jeno tries to switch from one ear to the other just to hear the actor from the other line. “I can’t hear you. Wait.”

He stands up from their table, meeting Jongin’s questioning gaze for a moment before using his free hand to point towards the phone by his ear. The elder nods in understanding before focusing back on the chaos on stage.

“Your friends are so loud” is the first clear sentence Jeno hears once he’s walked far enough from _Chiaroscuro._

Jeno frowns, not quite understanding the unusualness in the other’s tone. He’s about to ask what the actor is up to at the moment, crossing his arms with the evening air enveloping him in an embrace, when he sees something—or _someone_ that catches his attention.

“Took you long enough!” Jaemin almost shouts, but not quite.

Because there’s no need. Jaemin sounds closer than he was earlier, because actually—

“You’re here.” Jeno lets out a breath he doesn’t know he’s been holding. He’s stopped walking, his feet seemingly stuck on the white sand that has swallowed them somehow.

But Jaemin continues walking towards him, closing the distance.

They end the call almost at the same time with Jeno more confused than ever, not knowing what else to say other than repeating what he’s already said earlier. “You’re here.”

Jaemin smiles at him, bright and blinding, even with his windswept dark brown hair that must have tousled into disorder on his way here.

“So,” Jaemin starts, stopping once he’s completely standing in front of Jeno, close enough to touch, dangerously close enough to tell his secrets to. “What do you do for fun around here?”

“Wow,” Jongin breathes out as he sets his empty soju glass on the table. “The press would have a field day on this table.”

“Right?” Mark’s grin takes up almost half of his face. He’s definitely had too much to drink, Jeno thinks. “A lot of noonas at the company try to ask Donghyuck for your autograph but—” Mark hiccups.

“But?” Jaemin asks.

Mark scratches his chin in thought. “He says they don’t have a chance. That you’re too picky. To the point that you’re almost taken.”

Jaemin snorts. “He keeps talking like he knows things. How’s the poor guy by the way?”

“Booked and busy,” Yangyang replies. “And we think he’s seeing someone.”

“Is he?” Jaemin smiles knowingly.

“Just as I thought!” Yangyang points accusatory at Jaemin. “You know something we don’t.” He points to Jeno too. “And you’re in on it too. Wow. Some friend you are Jeno.”

“We honestly suspected he might have liked Jeno,” Mark comments casually.

Jeno could only laugh.

“Didn’t he confess to it at some point?” Yangyang asks, looking back and forth between Mark and Dejun. “We should ask him.” He turns to Jaemin, eyes going wider. “Or maybe Jaemin should.”

All eyes are on Jaemin who’s not bothered by the least. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” Yangyang answers. “Because we might have already asked him and if it’s you, it’ll be because you are Jeno’s friend and would like to genuinely know if a colleague of yours is interested in your manager.”

“I’m not buying it, and—” Jaemin crosses his arms. “I don’t think Donghyuck won’t either when I ask him.” He raises an eyebrow. “And I don’t have the chance to ask him right now.”

“But you have Venice again in August right?” Dejun asks suddenly, as if he’s been an active part of the conversation in the table since Jaemin joined them. “You could ask him for us, then.”

Jaemin laughs. Jeno knows it’s his awkward laugh, briefly seeing the look that flashes in Jaemin’s eyes that almost say _Okay but I wasn’t talking to you._

“Well, Dejun-ssi,” Jaemin starts, sounding almost venomous. “I’ll be sure to give it a go.” Jaemin stabs one of the pork cutlets with intensity, almost shaking the table. “I’m flattered you’re familiar with Venice by the way. Us artists need to support each other’s craft and I respect you for knowing it even exists in the first place.”

It’s too on-the-nose, by Jaemin standards and Jeno’s already thinking of what to say to possibly lighten the mood when Dejun beats him to it.

“Actually, Jeno told me.” _Or well, to make it worse._

“Earlier,” Dejun clarifies. “He walked me through the festivals you’ve attended and will still be attending for Seoul is Burning—which we’re all so excited to see for ourselves by the way.”

Jaemin looks at Jeno for a moment, then back to Dejun. “Seems like Jeno’s told you a lot of things.”

Dejun nods in nonchalance. “He told me how you granted his leave to be here today.”

“Ya,” Yangyang pipes up. “Jeno does always tell the nicest things about Jaemin.” He picks on a chicken wing and picks it apart to chew on one end. “It’s always Jaemin did this and he’s so nice. Jaemin this. Jaemin that.”

“Yangyang,” Jeno warns.

“It’s true,” Yangyang says firmly. “We should let Jaemin here know how I told you to get him a mug that says World’s Best Boss.”

“Liu Yangyang!” Jeno runs a hand over his hair, unable to deny something that came from Yangyang’s mouth when they went out one time to catch up—with just them two—over tea at a hole-in-the-wall café at Banpo-dong.

“Why are you getting embarrassed?” Yangyang teases. “I’m sure Jaemin here appreciates it that you like working with someone as kind as him.”

“I like it too,” Jaemin says out of the blue, looking at the pile of empty cans and beer bottles on the table. “I’m lucky he came to my life at that the time he did.”

“Ya…” Mark trails, expressing how much attentive they have all gotten if Jaemin’s about to say something further. To Mark’s left, Dejun’s looking elsewhere, looking bored, but Jeno knows he’s still listening. To Mark’s right, Jongin’s sparing Jeno a glance which Jeno looks away from, being reminded of things he’s been pushing and pushing to the back of his mind.

“I’m lucky he’s still here,” Jaemin adds. “Jeno’s my good luck charm, I think.”

Jeno doesn’t dare look at him, and instead keeps his gaze down on his lap, the guilt of half-lying by not telling Jaemin things growing heavier and heavier each day.

The sound of a pair of hands clapping makes Jeno look up and see Yangyang put on a sappy smile on his face, palms clasped together.

“We’re glad you found each other,” Yangyang says. “Now I say we—” Yangyang hiccups as he squints at something on the table. “Would you look at that,” he bends forward to reach for the soju bottle, inspecting it with possibly all the focus he has left for the night. “You’re the face of Chamisul, Na Jaemin-ssi!”

Jaemin flashes him a grin which Jeno knows is laced with a tad bit of smugness. Jeno’s slightly grateful for the shift in mood. “It turned out that way, yes.” Yangyang points to Jaemin’s glass and Jaemin gets it, sliding it towards the other. “We almost landed a CF deal for Cass,” Yangyang mumbles, pouring sojun onto Jaemin’s glass.

“But management said we may be too young to pose for beer,” Mark remarks, chin perched on his palms, already looking the most dazed on their table. “That was years ago though. We haven’t heard from them again.”

Jaemin tilts a bit to the side, drinking his fill of soju in one go. “Maybe you’re too expensive,” he comments as he slides back his glass towards Yangyang’s direction.

“Ya, so you’re a drinker,” Yangyang comments, gesturing to everyone to slide their glasses towards him. Everyone’s cheering for Jaemin except for Jeno and Dejun who’s only sneaking glances at the actor once in a while as he’s nursing his own can of _Hite_.

“Dejun ge, your glass please,” Yangyang pleads, almost batting his lashes.

Dejun shakes his head once, raising his can of Hite. “I’m good with this.” And he really, might be, Jeno thinks, vaguely remembering that Dejun hasn’t had any soju all night ever since the night started.

“Ya, hyung, don’t make Jeno take your shot for you,” Mark croons as Jongin leans on him, smiling in a daze. “Did Jeno really used to?” Jongin forces the words out as he looks at Jeno drowsily. “He doesn’t drink much now even if we beg him too.”

Jeno doesn’t know what comes over him, maybe it’s the unspoken pressure permeating in the air, but he slumps forward, reaching for Dejun’s glass. He could feel all eyes on him as he puts the elder’s glass on the table with a clang for Yangyang to fill it. He’s extra conscious from the pair of eyes next to him, whose presence tonight still boggles Jeno’s mind. He pays him no mind, thinking Jaemin will just tell him once he wants to, whatever it might be that he’s come this far to tell him.

Jeno slides Dejun’s glass further to Yangyang who’s gaping at him, but he’s already grinning as he fills all their glasses to the brim.

Jeno doesn’t have to look at Dejun right now because Jeno knows. Dejun doesn’t like soju that much from what Jeno remembers. Maybe, some things haven’t changed, after all.

“Lee Jeno. Still as cool as I remember,” Mark whistles, startling Jongin from where he’s leaning on the former.

“We sneaked soju once to the dorms and Dejun didn’t like it so Jeno here drank his fill,” Yangyang narrates dramatically.

“And we never drank soju again,” Mark adds. “Well, until we got legal but Dejun still doesn’t like it.”

“But where Dejun has failed us, Jeno has returned to us, bringing forth another superior drinker,” announces Yangyang as he calls everyone’s attention with a clap, raising his own glass. “Let’s toast to Jaemin. May he forever be the face of Chamisul Soju for as long as we are alive.” 

Jeno hears a snort from beside him.

“And to Jaemin and Jeno, too,” Yangyang adds, tone suddenly softer. He’s already drunk, that Jeno’s sure of, but Jeno knows that’s definitely a sincere smile on his friend’s lips. “For finding each other in a world where everyone just wants to be found.”

Jeno doesn’t know why, but he looks to his side, surprised that Jaemin’s looking at him, too.

“To Jaemin and Jeno!”

“To Jaemin and Jeno,” everyone in the table all says at the same time.

Jeno thinks he says it too, as he looks away from Jaemin, vaguely aware that everyone’s already drinking theirs, while Jeno’s mind sways in turbulence, confronted by what he’s been avoiding for months now.

Jeno drinks his thoughts away in one shot and is about to take Dejun’s too, as promised.

But Jaemin beats him to it.

Jeno could only watch dumbfoundedly as the actor swallows it all in one gulp, vaguely aware that Jaemin has drunk more booze than him already even if he’s just joined them.

“Jaemin-ssi…” Yangyang starts as if he’s sobered by Jaemin drinking almost thrice in a row.

Jaemin drops the glass on the table with a loud clang. If Jeno didn’t know how low Jaemin’s tolerance is, he’d think the other is performing. “Jeno doesn’t like drinking,” he says coolly.

Jeno feels his lips curl upwards, unsure of where Jaemin must have gotten that. Jeno never really tells people that. He can hold his drink sure, but he’s not especially keen on drinking if he’s not supposed to.

“Wow,” Mark exclaims with a giggle. Jeno thinks he sees Jaemin twitch. “You really work for such a cool person, Jeno-ya,” Mark says, holding his thumb up towards Jaemin’s direction. “The coolest!” he shouts in English making Jongin bend over, cackling at his very near-gone state.

Jeno roams his eyes around, trying to check if their managers are at least aware of the members’ drunken state.

Within minutes, their table is back on a random conversation that’s still surprisingly going fine when Jaemin drags his stool closer to Jeno. He moves Jeno’s plate away, resting his head on his palm, directly looking up at Jeno. “Aren’t I the coolest, Jeno-ya?”

Even without looking at the other for long, Jeno can tell Jaemin’s drunk enough for the night. He grabs a tissue from the table and makes Jaemin get up to sit straight again. Jaemin obliges him and watches him tentatively as Jeno wipes at the stray _dakgangjeong_ sauce that has stuck to Jaemin’s right cheek.

“You can’t keep drinking pretending you have a high tolerance, Jaemin-ah.” He purposely avoids the other’s eyes, unsure if he’s still sober enough to fight whatever lovesickness he’ll feel once he drowns in Jaemin’s gaze. “I worry about you so much,” he adds making as he dabs at the last stain just below Jaemin’s lips.

“I worry about you so much, too.”

Jeno draws his hand away on instinct, unsure if he’d heard correctly. But Jaemin stops him, holding onto his wrist as it stays mid-air, holding Jaemin’s face but not quite.

There’s no use looking anywhere else now, as Jeno’s trapped by Jaemin’s gaze. He tries to avert his gaze and looks down but ends up looking at the other’s mouth, parting once or twice as if he’s about to say something but can’t quite say it just yet. The action is hypnotizing but the spell breaks as soon as the opening notes of the next song start playing.

Jeno takes his hand away, finds himself turning to the stage, entranced by the familiar chords of a song he’s actively avoided for almost eight years now.

Dejun is sitting on the stool on stage, front and center, _Chiaroscuro’s_ guitar slung across his chest, looking like it belongs to him. Like he belongs there.

 _It’s true, Dejun ge,_ Jeno had once said to him as they ate the _hotteok_ from the stall just minutes away from their dorm. He had said it, imitating how Yangyang says the honorific, to check if it will roll well on his tongue. _You sing like you belong to the music._

Jeno could almost laugh, as Dejun reaches the chorus, with such raw emotion, rawer than Jeno remembered. He truly did get better. He messes up some of the chords, sure, but it doesn’t take anything away from his singing, with its intensity, and unwavering honesty. It’s still the Dejun he knew and loved, sure, but also, better, dreams fulfilled and all. Meanwhile, Jeno…

“I think they’re already working out the rights to this,” Yangyang whispers to Jeno, cupped hand around his lips as if he’s telling Jeno a secret. “His first SM Station solo…” He turns back to the stage, watching Dejun in his element.

“This song is just that special to him, I guess.”

Before Jeno could even process Yangyang’s words, he hears laughter, which sounds a little too sardonic. He knows this particular Jaemin laugh, of course. He’s sure of it. Because he’s heard all of his laughter, different emotions for different occasions. Jeno’s filed every single thing that may be useful for him as a manager. He kept on stowingand stockpiling, hoarding quirks and habits and memories like a mole, until it became just second nature for him to know them—just for the sake of knowing, for the sake of knowing him more.

And now, he knows he’s collected _too much_ , honestly unsure of how he’ll start detaching _everything Jaemin_ from him.

Jeno turns to his side, finds a completely immersed Jaemin. The lights overhead cast a somber glow to the actor’s side profile. Jeno doesn’t know how long he’s staring until Jaemin speaks up.

“I see why you like him.” A sigh comes out of his lips. “First loves are the worst.”

When Dejun reaches the end of his adlibs and _lalalas_ , the entirety of _Chiaroscuro_ claps for him. Even as Jaemin’s clapping with them, Jeno isn’t. Because finally, he’s reminded of the question he’s been wanting to ask Jaemin ever since he showed up in the flesh, all dazzling and handsome under the moonlight over Gyeongpo.

Only Jaemin would go this far to tell him something. It might be important, then, Jeno thinks idly.

Jaemin’s phone, however, seems to have other plans, ringing so loud seemingly startling Jaemin into half sobriety. Jeno watches the confusion on Jaemin’s face before struggling to stand from his stool, possibly to walk somewhere quieter. Jeno follows him, watches as Jaemin continues to sway as he treks the sands of Gyeongpo.

Next thing he knows, Jaemin is toppling over but Jeno helps him just in time, easing him into a sitting position, curling on himself as he takes the call.

“Nari did what?” Jaemin’s slurring through his words, free hand massaging his forehead. “I’m sorry could you repeat that again, please, I just can’t—”

Jeno gently pries the phone away from Jaemin, clicking on Loudspeaker, angling towards the both of them. “I’m sorry I tried telling her you won’t like it. Saerom unnie also tried.” Yuna sounds exasperated and breathy, as if she’s pacing back and forth from the other line. “But she wanted to come and see you.”

“We’re almost three hours away from Seoul,” Jeno finally says. “Good evening by the way, Yuna-ssi.”

“Jeno oppa!” Jaemin giggles beside him, breath too awfully close to Jeno’s cheek. “I already told her that but she really doesn’t want to stay over at her mom’s saying—and I quote—with the _thief_ staying the night too.”

 _Seongwu-ssi_ , Jeno’s mind supplies.

“I could go but I have to find a way to go home first,” Jaemin says, already attempting to stand up on his own. He barely succeeds before curling in on himself once more. “Can I talk to her?”

“Appa?”

Jaemin lights up. “Appa’s going to be a little late, honey.” He wets his lips. “But I’ll be home, Nari-ya. Just please listen to your Yuna unnie until I get back, okay?”

They hear Yuna on the phone again. So Jaemin instructs her on some spare clothing in the guest room wardrobe because it’ll be too late for Yuna to go home by the time Jaemin comes home. “I’m really sorry for this, Yuna-ssi. I’ll be sure to double your overtime pay tonight.”

“ _No worries, Mr. Na_.” Once again, Jaemin tries to stand up. This time, he succeeds, only barely. Only to stumble forward again upon hearing Nari again from the other line.

 _“You don’t need to go home tonight, appa,”_ says Nari in one breath. “ _I just don’t want to sleep at eomma’s tonight._ ”

Jaemin finally manages to stand up, taking the phone from Jeno’s hold and holding it with both hands.

“It’s no big deal, Nari-ya,” Jaemin says smugly. “I’ll be home in a while. I promise.”

 _“Yuna unnie says it’s hard to find a ride home this late—”_ Jeno hears something clutter from the other line. “ _So, I’ll be fine with unni tonight. You don’t have to—_ ”

“I’m driving your appa home tonight, Nari-ya,” Jeno professes, leaning into Jaemin’s space to speak into the phone. He thinks he imagines hearing a breath hitch. “Don’t worry.”

He inserts both of his hands in his pockets, trying to steady himself even if he’s probably the soberest within a mile radius of Gyeongpo.

“We’re on our way home.”

Jaemin insists on coming back with Jeno to their table to bid their goodbyes.

 _It’s the least I could do for stealing you away for the night_ said Jaemin, voice low, somewhat avoiding Jeno’s eyes.

Jaemin is the first to break the news of them leaving, bowing a perfect 90-degree bow, as if he’s just congratulating his fellow cast members and production crew members for a job well done in a shoot.

“I knew it was already too good to be true to have you with us today,” Yangyang says with a pout, enunciating each syllable dramatically. If Jeno stays further, he knows he’ll hear his friend completely slip into Mandarin after a few more drinks.

“Hyung might be surprised tomorrow though,” Mark comments, a little more stable sounding than earlier, easing Jongin who’s fallen asleep and whose head is comfortably leaning on Mark’s shoulder now. “He’s excited to stroll all over Gangneung.”

“All the more reason for him to stay behind,” Jeno supplies.

He’s already urging Jaemin to get up from bowing so they could leave when a pair of gangly arms envelop him in an embrace. Yangyang’s breath fans his neck, smelling of soju, Hite, and a whole lot of dakgangjeong.

“I’m glad you came today, Jeno. Thank you.”

He returns the hug, holds onto his friend of over eight years a little tighter than he normally would.

“I’m glad I came, too.”

“What are you doing?” Jeno asks Jaemin as he makes a left turn to Hae-an road.

The actor looks back one last time at Gyeongpo road behind them before facing front. “Just thought someone may have forgotten to say goodbye to you.”

Jeno turns to Jaemin briefly to ask but Jaemin enlightens him right away.

“The first love—” Jaemin says in a clipped tone. He leans—slouches against the passenger seat next to Jeno, running a hand over his face. “—Must have been heartbroken you didn’t stay. Even after he sang you a song.” Jeno hears him sigh. “And is his jawline for real? I don’t think it is. It’s too sharp to be real.”

“Is this you saying you want work done on your face?” Jeno teases.

“Aha!” Jaemin squints at him. “So he really had some work done on his face!”

Jeno shakes his head in response, holding in his laughter. “He was always that handsome.”

When he’s met with silence, he turns to Jaemin who’s studying him briefly before looking out the window. “He is, I suppose, fairly good-looking.”

A nervous chuckle escapes from Jeno’s lips. He’s got one hand on the steering wheel, and the other scratching his neck which has gotten suddenly warm. “We actually got to talk but it wasn’t a long talk but yeah, it was—” He taps his sudden nervousness away on the steering wheel. “I think we’re okay now.”

“I’m sorry I ruined your night,” Jaemin says in almost a whisper. “Or well, cut your night short. You could have caught up more.”

“It’s okay,” Jeno tells him. “Nari needs you.”

“Still.” Jaemin turns to him, expression pensive. “I sound like a broken record by now but—“ he sighs heavily. ”You didn’t have to, Jeno.”

“But I want to,” Jeno says, hoping Jaemin won’t argue further. “And besides, I already had too much fun for the day anyways so…yeah.”

Thunder rumbles outside, suddenly reminding Jeno that Chaera had taken with her the car’s umbrella. He’s watching the first drops of rainfall, thinking if he has another umbrella on the trunk when Jaemin says “They seem like good people, honestly—” Jaemin shifts on his seat, looks at Jeno briefly. “—I say this even for Mark.”

“Does this mean you’re okay with Nari crushing on him and possibly asking his hand in marriage if she ever gets the chance to attend their concert in the near future?”

“Ya, does Nari still say that often?” Jaemin scowls weakly. “It’s one thing to be good. It’s another to be good for Nari.”

Jeno gets it. He replays his conversation earlier with Chaera, on how bold she is with her affections, and at the same time still anxious about what her mom has to say. He suspects that Minjung will be accepting and understanding, seeing as how she fared when Jeno opened up about crushing on a fellow male trainee at the age of fourteen. He could try and make things easier, and ease Minjung into Chaera’s secret. But then again, this is Chaera’s secret and hers alone. Jeno believes she’ll soon come forward on her own and tell her mom and dad everything. Jeno smiles proudly at the thought. These days it feels like Jeno always has more things to learn from people around him every day and he feels bad for not taking everything slowly and carefully, so that he could reveal his own secret gently when the time comes.

“When’s the music video coming out?”

Jeno almost misses Jaemin’s question, against the steadily growing rainfall outside. When he turns to Jaemin, the actor’s completely leaning on his headrest, face slightly tiled towards Jeno’s direction.

“Next month I presume? They’re already touting it as the song of the summer.”

“I bet you did great on it.” Jaemin smiles at him and Jeno’s stomach feels funny. “You just always do in anything, really.”

“I did like it,” Jeno says quickly, avoiding the flurry of butterflies that seem to invade the pit of his stomach when Jaemin feels like he’s flirting with him. Jaemin’s just so dangerous with his words, and gentle smile, and arresting gaze and— “It’s not every day you watch a music video shoot and get roped into dancing as backup for it.”

“Well it did happen because you’re you.” Jaemin’s smile grows deeper or maybe it’s just the trick of the light from outside. “I won’t be surprised if you’ll get more love calls for music videos in the future, Jeno.”

Jeno doesn’t know what to say to that, mildly aware that _No, of course that won’t be possible_ , unless the shoots are set in Jeju, which is approximately four hundred fifty-four kilometers away from Seoul. _From Jaemin, too_ , his mind supplies.

“You have to take them, alright?” Jaemin gives him one last look before looking ahead. “It would be nice, really, us doing things we like for the rest of our lives.”

“I’m going to act even until I’ve become a hag with nothing but white hair and aching limbs,” Jaemin continues taking Jeno’s silence as a cue for him to do so. “But you’d be there, of course, teaching me gentle stretching exercises so I could still be fit because that’s what you’d be doing by then—” Jaemin turns to him, smiles, bright, blinding and so, so sweet before throwing a fit of laughter. “Holding basic dance classes for the elderly.”

It makes Jeno laugh too. “Will I?”

“Of course!” Jaemin replies, sounding so sober now that Jeno thinks whatever drunkenness Jaemin had a while ago had somehow transferred to Jeno, feeling as if he’s on cloud nine, going high and drunk on Jaemin’s happiness next to him. “You’re going to dance for the rest of your life,” Jaemin finishes, smiling at Jeno once more.

It makes Jeno smile, too, the thought that Jaemin’s support for his dancing has never wavered from day one. Perhaps, he’s always known that Jaemin will always be on his side.

“Jaemin.”

Even if they may be miles apart.

“Hm?”

“I don’t think I’ll be dancing for the rest of my life,” Jeno manages to say. “Well, if—” he takes a deep breath “—if I can do it in Jeju somehow then, yeah.” There’s an intersection ahead so he slows down. “But I don’t know yet.”

“Jeju?” Jaemin pipes. “Why would you be dancing in Jeju?” The actor makes a sound of amusement. “They’ve booked you for another one already? Wow they don’t slack, huh.”

“No, they didn’t and—“ 

“Booking might be difficult if I’m no longer as reachable as I am here, in Seoul.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

The traffic light turns red.

“I’m leaving Seoul, Jaemin-ah,” he says. The countdown until the light turns green starts. “Well actually, we are leaving Seoul, Minjung noona and Haejin hyung—”

“The twins too?”

“No, uhm,” he turns to Jaemin for a moment, worried he might see anger or betrayal. He’s not sure what he sees. But it doesn’t look like anger. “They already got accepted into dorms near their schools. It’s just that Haejin hyung’s office has relocated him to Jeju and when he told noona, she was more than glad to support it and—” he looks back ahead, to the nearly empty wet roads outside and the blaring countdown of red on the traffic light. “It has always been her dream to set up her own restaurant in Pyeongdae, and now she’s been planning non-stop and meeting people and—”

“You’re leaving with them?”

“Yes, I am and—”

“You’re leaving when exactly?”

“On or before November, give or take.”

“That’s just a few months from now.”

“Yes, it is.” Jeno’s heart beats louder, almost drowning out the sounds of the car’s wipers battling the splashes of rain. “I’m planning to tell Heechul hyung soon too, don’t worry, so we can find my replacement and do the proper turnover necessary. I just—” Jeno hesitates. “Wanted to let you know first.”

“Oh, okay.” Jaemin exhales, seemingly taking it all in better than Jeno thought he would. Or so he thinks. “Wow,” Jaemin almost whispers. “Jeju.”

Jeno nervously remains quiet, waiting for Jaemin to speak further.

“And is that not a vacation? You won’t be back after a month or two? Or three?”

Jeno shakes his head, the raindrops outside growing even heavier and heavier by the second.

“Wow, Jeno, that’s—” Jaemin covers his mouth to conceal what Jeno sees to be laughter.

The ugly kind.

“Ya,” Jaemin says to him disbelievingly, shoulders shaking from the kind of laughter that looks too strained to be good. “You really have the perfect timing for things, don’t you, Jeno-ya?”

Jeno doesn’t know why but to him, this…this Jaemin is _terrifying_.

“I’m sorry,” Jeno placates him. “I know I should’ve told you sooner. I just don’t always—”

Jaemin’s hand clasps over the groove of his elbow, squeezing it gently. “It’s okay, Jeno.” The syllables are drawn out, a sign that Jaemin’s not mad, he’s just—

The other’s hand is gone after a moment. Jeno misses the warmth already.

“Good thing you said it before I could have said that I—”

“Said that you...?”

“Nevermind. But thank you,” Jaemin flashes him with a smile that Jeno finally identifies as _hurt_ as the actor sits back and closes his eyes. Jaemin is _hurt_.

Jeno hates it. Hates that he’s the one who’s caused it.

A long honk from the car behind them brings back Jeno to the moment. He sees the traffic light turn green, pulls back the lever to _Drive_ , as he composes himself after unloading the one luggage he’s been wanting to unpack for months. Well, one of the two.

He makes a signal that they’re turning right when Jaemin whispers the very last thing that Jeno will hear from him for the rest of the ride until they arrive home: “Thank you for telling me, Jeno.”

  
  
  
  


“What is it that it can’t wait until tomorrow?”

He pours himself a glass of water, drinking from it as he hears the sound of a door closing from the other end of the line.

“Well, it’s not my problem you’re not just in the next room as I tell you that I’m having another child and that I don’t even know if I would want it to be a girl because of course I know Chaera would—”

“Come again?”

“I know Chaera would love a little sister. She said she always wanted—"

“No, before that. You said something else. What was it?”

Minjung chuckles, carefree, as if Jeno’s suddenly blanketed by it just from hearing her. And then, she says in a gleeful whisper, “I’m pregnant, Jeno.”

“Oh wow,” he exclaims breathily, slowly putting his glass back on the table. “Is that why you were—”

“Yep.” Minjung sounds as if she can’t contain the joy from the other line. “I haven’t given it much thought until I told Haejin about it and then he asked me if I’ve been missing periods as of later and it just all—”

“Clicked together,” Jeno finishes for her.

“Yes,” Minjung drawls. “The only thing that could make me happier is when you tell—”

“I did.”

“Ya,” Minjung snorts. “You didn’t even let me finish.”

“I knew what you were gonna say, noona.” Jeno smiles, because, for the first time in a while, there’s a lightness in his chest, even if the hurt on Jaemin’s face never left his mind from earlier. “I told Jaemin I’m leaving.”

“Wow,” Minjung exclaims, more shocked than impressed. “That’s amazing, Jeno.” He hears her sigh, as if to collect herself. “Did you—” she cuts herself off, as if realizing she’s overstepping a line. “How did he take it?”

He braces himself on the table, closing his eyes and focuses on the gentle thuds of rain against the windows of the Na household. “He took it well, I think.” He opens his eyes. “I hope.”

“Well, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m proud of you, Jeno,” Minjung tells him. “You can just tell me everything tomorrow. Go to sleep.” She stifles a yawn. “You’ve had a long day, midget.”

“You did, too,” Jeno teases. He moves around the table to get an aspirin and another glass to take with him to Jaemin’s room. “Good night, noona.”

The door to Jaemin’s room is half-open.

Jeno darts his head inside a bit and hears the shower running from the bathroom. He lets himself in and places the tray with a pitcher of water, a glass and a tablet of aspirin for Jaemin’s inevitable hangover tomorrow. He wonders if there are ingredients left in Jaemin’s refrigerator for haejangguk.

He starts walking towards the bathroom. He’s about to ask the actor about it when the sight of something stops him.

On the table next to the rain-stained window is a souvenir program of Don Quixote. Particularly, the production performed by the Parisian ballet.

Jeno opens it and is surprised at the pair of cards falling onto the ground. He bends down to pick it up and is confused by what he sees.

Two tickets for Don Quixote by the Parisian Ballet. 

_May 22, 2020. 7-9 pm. Opera Bastille._

He’s reading it over and over in his mind, growing more confused by the second. He’s alerted by the sound of the shower stopping. He hastily tucks the ticket back inside the souvenir program and places it back on the table.

He doesn’t stop walking until he manages to close the door to Jaemin’s room, making a beeline for the guest room, his hand pounding his chest with a heart that just won’t stop racing.

He sits down on the bed, legs seemingly turning jelly—his whole body, really—with what he just saw.

 _Was Jaemin going to ask him to see Don Quixote, too? Did Kunhang just beat him to it? Is that why Jaemin went to Paris too? And the tickets are unused, so Jaemin really didn’t go with someone. He didn’t even go to see it himself._ Jeno’s questions are piling on top of one another and he just wants to—

“Manager-nim?” a small voice from the hallway calls out. 

It’s followed by three gentle knocks on his door. 

Jeno takes a deep breath, stands up and opens it for his guest. He bends down instinctively. “Can’t sleep?” he asks.

Nari gives him a small nod in reply, eyes downcast.

He ruffles her hair, it’s down in almost soft curls, a tell-tale of how Yuna and Nari had spent the majority of the evening earlier. “Do you want anything to eat?”

Jeno gets a simple shake of the head this time, Nari’s eyes still downcast.

“Do you want me to wake up your—”

Nari reaches out and clings to the sleeve of his shirt. “Can I sleep here instead?”

“Of course,” he smiles at her dopily. “Though Yuna might be surprised if she wakes up alone in your room tomorrow.”

Nari grins, apologetic. 

Jeno reaches out to her hand, tugs on it as he stands up and asks “Which side do you prefer?”

Nari responds by getting off of her _Sullivan_ slippers, onto the side near the door of the guest bedroom. Jeno cracks a grin as he follows suit, remembering when Renjun pointed out once that it really isn’t a guest bedroom anymore but Jeno’s.

Nari huddles under the blanket and makes herself comfortable as Jeno switches off the light.

“Minnie, uhm, er, Minyoungie—” Nari starts. Jeno doesn’t know where this is going, already mildly sleepy and mostly exhausted from his very eventful day. He feels her turn towards him, lying on her side. He mirrors her. “Has this boy she likes from the other class.”

“It’s silly but she does this—” Nari folds her hand into a fist thumps it against her chest, staring at Jeno incredulously as she does so. “She does this every time this boy from the other class greets her in the corridor.” 

Jeno squints, trying to see the urgency in her story, if there’s any.

“Her face is always the reddest I’ve ever seen from her.” She inches closer to him, voice toned down to a whisper. “All because of a boy.”

Jeno isn’t sure he likes where this is going.

“A boy she said she likes.”

He gulps nervously because he can’t help it.

“Manager-nim?”

Strangely enough, even with the lights off, Jeno feels the weight of Nari’s gaze on him as she asks what would be the first of the heart-stopping questions Jeno may be dealing within the next months to follow if Nari doesn’t get her answer tonight.

Jeno braces himself.

“Do you like my dad?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry that it took me this long to get back and post. ;_; I hope the lengthy update somehow made up for the wait?? :’(  
> \- No, we did not up the chapter count to 7. No, we did not. (ノ_<。)  
> \- I originally wanted to provide a companion presentation for the places they’ve visited but I hope a [compilation of the references I used](https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1Ook5DY8-u0rVlJGQEdWa9jCpUz4GuPnyDpj9c_Ml7eA/edit#slide=id.g6afee00f07_0_0) will do!  
> \- Halmang (grandmother), abang (father) and eomong (mother) are used specifically by [Jeju locals](https://www.liquisearch.com/jeju_dialect/vocabulary).  
> \- Standing ovation twitter post for Cannes was inspired by [this](https://twitter.com/karenyhan/status/1131957170797522944). #BONGHIVE 4EVA  
> \- The song they performed for the monthly evaluation is [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NRozldXYBpc). So naturally, [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b9z9PGZQ3S0) is the version that Dejun sang.  
> \- Meanwhile, for Neo Culture's summer comeback song, Oasis, I mostly thought of something similar to Shinee's Good Evening, with [Jeno and Jongin's choreo for it](https://drive.google.com/open?id=1saaWDkp_fTngzX_3aTFq4-RwHvVq5uy-) similar to Lia Kim's/1Million Dance Studio's Closer choreo. :')  
> \- And [this](https://youtu.be/G9P53KPt_Tk?t=34) is the version of Deli Spice's Confession that I can imagine Dejun singing.  
> \- Thoughts about this 44k update? Questions on how long will I be hiding in my cave again before I come back with the rest of the fic? Tell me on the comments! Or on [twt](https://twitter.com/jaemjaemis) or [cc](https://curiouscat.me/cinemas)!  
> Nari says see you again on the next update, where we will hopefully learn what will Jeno say to Nari’s very curious question!٩(◕‿◕｡)۶  
> 


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